


Harry Potter and the Golden Ring II

by chadmaako



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Marvel Universe - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, Marvel Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 21:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 28
Words: 91,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11472012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chadmaako/pseuds/chadmaako
Summary: Harry is fed up. Left alone with the Dursleys year after year. Being the boy who lived means nothing when no one seems to care HOW you have to live. No one listens to him. No one believes him. No one cares about him. So Harry Potter is taking his destiny into his own hands. With his vault key, the clothes on his back and his trusty wand, Harry departs, leaving the wizarding world behind...or so he thinks.But eyes are on him always. His journey isn't as unknown as he would like to believe. Plans are set in motion to claim the boy who lived and change the lofty title to something a little less...lively.Will a master assassin's blade turn the boy who lived into the boy who died?A story that has been requested by many. Another take on Storylover213's Bloody Brandy's Vegas Vacation Challenge (from Fanfiction.net) but this time with someone from Marvel's lineup. The character of choice is one of my personal favorites. I hope you enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry sat in his room, staring at the letter he’d received from Arthur Weasley.

 

Harry — Dumbledore’s just arrived at the Ministry, and he’s trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE’S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND.

 

He could feel the rage boiling up within him. Dudley was right. When he was at the park making fun of Harry’s nightmarish ramblings in his sleep, he was spot on. Every night Harry relived the death of Cedric Diggory. He saw the horror on the boy’s face. Saw the pain he must have felt a split second before his body fell to the ground, unmoving. He remembered the pale lifelessness that was his fellow tournament champion.

And no one cared. No one seemed to believe him. Since boarding the train and coming home, as it were, he was isolated. He was cut off. No news, except what little he had gleaned from Mrs. Frigg. She’d only shared that Harry was being ‘looked after’. _Spied on is more like it,_ He thought to himself. But the person that was supposed to be keeping him safe, like everyone else over the course of the summer, had abandoned him.

“No one gives a bloody toss about me,” Harry said, angrily. He rose to his feet, crumpled the letter up and tossed it against the wall. Hedwig ruffled her feathers and hooted softly, then settled back down in her cage. Harry sighed and nodded, his mind made up. “If no one seems to care about me, the I’m through caring for them. I’m not doing this anymore.” He said to the owl. He opened his window, then turn to the cage. “Go to the Burrow. Fly to Mrs. Weasley. She’ll take care of you until I come for you.” Harry said to the pale white owl. “Where I’m going, you won’t be able to follow.” Hedwig seemed to sense the boy’s uneasiness. She stared at him with her big green eyes. “Go on. She’ll treat you well. You know she will.” He reached out and stroked the owl’s beak. “I’m sorry, Hedwig. I can’t do this anymore.” He said, softly comforting the owl. He lifted her from within the cage and set her on the sill. “Go on, then. Go to the Burrow. You know where it is and how to get there.”

With a last hoot, the owl flapped out the window and away into the night. Harry let out a breath and looked around the room. He desperately wished he could simply cast the shrinking charms to make his possessions portable, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to risk another letter from the Ministry if he could help it. So he settled for packing a single change of clothes into a small knapsack, along with his invisibility cloak. He slid his wand into his pocket, put his shoes back on and gathered his broom.

He took one last look around the room, then climbed out onto the roof. He snapped his fingers and quickly retrieved the beat up photo album of his parents Hagrid had given him. “Can’t forget this.” He said, stuffing it into his bag. He then climbed onto his broom and raced away toward downtown London. He noticed with a touch of wry humor that there was no one to stop him. No one to intervene. A smile creased his lips as he thought about his Aunt Petunia’s reaction when she checked on him in the morning and found him gone. Vernon would no doubt stomp and roar. Petunia would fuss and shriek. Dudley would simply blubber about ‘mummy, mummy’. The thought was absolutely hilarious to him.

He stayed high among the cloud cover, making certain to not be noticed. He descended into the courtyard behind The Leaky Cauldron. He dismounted his broom and tapped the necessary brick that would allow him access to Diagon Alley. He knew exactly where he needed to go. He entered the bustling marketplace and made it a dozen paces when a voice that was all too familiar froze him in his tracks.

“Harry Potter.” The droning tones of Hogwarts Potions Master called from his left. Slowly Harry turned to see Professor Snape glide toward him in all his dark sinister glory.

 _No_ , Harry thought, quickly. _We’re not in school. He can’t tell me what to do here_. “Leave me alone.” He said, mustering all of his will to keep his voice steady. “We’re not in your classroom, Professor. So just leave me be.” He turned and continued walking.

Snape stood a moment, then was beside the boy in an instant. “Stop, Harry.” He said, his long thin fingers encircling the boy’s arm. His grip was like iron. He quickly pulled Harry into a darkened alley. “It isn’t safe to-,”

Harry snarled and whipped his wand free, pointing it at the man’s long scimitar-like nose. “I said leave me alone, Professor.” Much to his surprise, the tall man released him and backed away.

“Where are you going?” Snape asked, trying to calm his voice. “You were instructed not to leave your Aunt and Uncle’s house, were you not?”

Harry lowered his wand and chuckled, shaking his head. “You…all of you. You all think you know what’s best for me. Making decisions for me. Ordering me about. Talking about me, talking _for_ me, talking _at_ me, but never talking _to_ me. For the past two months, I’ve been alone. No word from anyone. Not my friends, not my only remaining family, nothing from no one.” He shoved his wand back into his pocket. “I’m not doing this anymore. I’ve been on my own for four damn years and no one has cared. No one has explained anything to me.” He began walking again. “I’m finished. I’m out. No more.”

Snape slid up beside him. “No more…what?” He asked.

“I’m done being used. I’m through being a tool for everyone else’s purposes. I’m through with your world, Professor.”

“What are you talking about, Harry?” He asked, moving in front of the boy blocking him from leaving the alleyway. “You’re a wizard, boy. You’re a part of this world.” He motioned around.

“Am I?” Harry asked him. “Am I really? Where are my parents, Professor? Where’s my family? Where are my friends? Huh? Where are the people that supposedly care about me? I’m supposed to be the savior of the wizarding world, yet no one believes a word I say. I had to watch one of my schoolmates die and for _what_?” He kicked over a trash can. “So the Ministry of Magic can sit back and do nothing? So Dumbledore can sit back and do nothing?” He stabbed a finger at Severus. “So _you_ can sit back and do nothing?” Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy. “Don’t glare at me, Professor. It doesn’t work anymore.”

“So you’re just going to leave? Leave everyone _you_ care about behind?” He asked. “Just like that?”

It was Harry’s turn to narrow his eyes. “That’s _exactly_ what I’m going to do.”

Snape stared at him long and hard. “Have you thought about where you’re going to go?”

“Why do you care?” Harry asked him. “You hate me anyway. I thought you’d be jumping for joy to be rid of me.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Snape responded.

“Neither did you,” Harry said, moving toward the end of the alley. “Get out of my way.”

“Answer my question and I will.”

“I’m going to Gringotts. I’m emptying my vault and going to America. Voldemort and his Death Eaters will never think to look for me there.”

Snape was surprised. It was a rather simplistic plan, but it was quite well thought out. In the muggle world, cash was king. And given what he knew of the funds left to Harry by Lily and James, the boy would more likely as not be a millionaire once the gold, silver, and bronze were converted to Muggle currency. He would have more than enough to disappear and live a life of relative luxury if that was what he wanted. “You can’t,” Snape said, stoically.

“And what are you going to do to-?” Harry began.

“Not without help,” Snape said, interrupting him. “Come with me.” He said, turning to the exit of the alley.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked him.

“Helping you disappear,” Snape said, motioning him to follow. “Quickly, now.”

Harry, dumbfounded, followed behind the man. He allowed Snape to do the talking while he stood by and simply listened. Snape closed his vault out completely and had all of the galleons, sickles, and knuts transferred to a muggle account. Harry signed where was necessary and was handed a muggle debit card.

“Don’t lose it. It’s every pence you own, now.” Snape said to him. “Follow me.” He led Harry from the bank, and then from Diagon Alley as a whole. As they entered the courtyard behind The Leaky Cauldron, Snape pulled his wand out and tapped Harry’s broom. The implement shrank to no larger than a wooden matchstick. “Put that in your pocket.”

Harry quickly did so. “Why are you helping me, Professor?” He asked.

“Because of a promise I intend to keep,” Snape said. “No more questions. Come along.” He entered the bar and strode through with purpose, ignoring the patrons within. The pair stepped onto the busy London street. Snape waved down a taxi and held the door for Harry. He slid in behind the boy and offered an address to the driver.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked, looking about.

“To see an acquaintance of mine.” Snape returned, crossing his arms. “You’ll need to pay for the taxi.” He offered. Harry nodded. Given how much money he had at his disposal, he had no problem with that.

Twenty minutes later, the pair arrived at a rundown brownstone near Oxford. They exited, having paid the fare and signing on for a healthy tip and entered the building.

Harry was once again astonished at Professor Snape’s ingenuity. The man seemed to know everyone and have access to everything. After a few hours, Harry had an entirely new identity. According to the information he had, His name was Harold James Evans. He was a twenty-one-year-old graduate of Oxford Business College that had hit it big on the Stock Exchange and cashed out early to travel abroad. He had an American social security number, transcripts from school, a birth certificate, dual citizenship and even a driver’s license. He looked at the picture as he and Snape traveled to the airport. Given everything he’d been through, Harry did look far older than his mere fifteen years would suggest. He wasn’t quite sure if he could pass for twenty-one, but he didn’t care. It was just going to be nice not to be stuck at the Dursleys anymore.

The cab pulled up to London Heathrow Airport. Harry climbed out of the car and stood, waiting for Snape. The elder man shook his head. “You don’t me any longer.” He offered. “The ticket counter is inside.” He pointed through the glass doors. “You’ll be fine.”

Harry stared at him a moment. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Good luck, Harry,” Snape said. He closed the door and nodded to the driver. Harry watched as the black taxicab drove away. He sighed, turned and lifted his pack up onto his shoulder and headed inside.

It was just after noon when Harry sat in his first class seat, overlooking the city of London as it disappeared into the background. The stark blue of the Atlantic Ocean stretched out beneath him. He’d never seen anything like it. Only on television and in movies and none of them did the sight justice. He leaned back in his chair and relaxed, looking forward to having no one to answer to and no one to tell him what to do. A smile crept across his face as he thought about the fallout of what he was doing. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and all the others would be furious. Molly and Arthur would no doubt worry, as would Hermione and Ron. But he found he didn’t care so much. Like everyone else, they didn’t tell him anything. They just left him to rot in the Dursley’s house because again, like everyone else, they had no use for him. And when Harry was of no use, he was ignored.

Deep down, he knew there was a reason. And he was fairly certain that the reason was probably a rather good one. He was just too busy wallowing in self-pity to care. Not that he didn’t feel his sudden wanderlust justified. Because as far as he was concerned, it most certainly was. He needed to be away for a while. Oh, he was sure he’d go back. He would probably be gone for a few months just to clear his head, have a bit of fun, then return to face the music. But he couldn’t help but think one all-encompassing though; _Only if I want to_. That made him smile. _My life, my rules_ , he said internally as he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

She pulled her cellular phone out and looked at the photograph once again. She then lifted her eyes and settled them on the dark haired boy with the scar upon his forehead. She grinned, nodded, and slid the phone back into her tight black skirt pocket. She casually made her way over to him. _All too easy_ , she thought to herself.

Harry moved around the casino, not really sure what he should do. He’d been in Las Vegas for a little over a month, now. He was happy with his flat, or apartment as it was called in the states, and lived rather modestly. He had internet, cable television and all of the video games and computer hardware he could ask for.

Tonight was the first night he’d decided to try out his ID and have some fun. He’d checked the internet and found that the best place to start was Caesar’s Palace. So, he did just that. He started with twenty thousand in chips and now that he was on the floor, he had no idea where to begin.

He decided to go for broke. He moved up to a tall woman with extremely pale blonde hair that hung to just below her shoulders as she made her way closer to him, a drink tray in her hand. She had on a white blouse, a black skirt that came to just above the knee and hugged her curves. He knew from her attire that she was one of the many cocktail waitresses. She was quite possibly the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. Given that there were so many about, he felt that was saying something. “Excuse me?” He asked her.

She looked down at him with a welcoming smile. “Yes?” She asked, sweetly.

“I um, I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re busy. I’m just, well, you see I’m new and I don’t really know what I should do. I’ve never gambled before.”

She stared him up and down a moment. “It shows.” She offered, reaching out and caressing his cheek with her thumb. “You know how to play poker?”

“A little.” He said, shrugging. “Not very good at it.”

“Then stay away from it. The rounders we get in here will eat you alive.” She said to him. “What about Blackjack?”

Harry nodded. “I’m actually quite good at that one.” He admitted happily.

“Then you should probably start there.” She said to him. “It’s right this way.” She walked a little, popping her hips as she did so and showed him the table. “You can win a lot of money that way, but you can also lose your shirt.” She gave him a wink. “Not that I would mind.”

He returned her smile with one of his own and took a chip from his tray, setting it on her serving platter. “Thank you.” He said to her.

She took the chip and stuck it in her pocket. “Thanks. Would you like something to drink?” She asked him.

“Um…what do you suggest?” He asked her.

“You probably don’t wanna get sloshed while you’re playing. I’ll bring you a coke.” She reached over and tapped his shoulder. “Good luck.”

Harry suddenly got a bit light headed, but it passed quickly. “Thank you.” He moved to the table and took a seat, spending a moment watching first. The rules seemed to be relatively simple. Harry decided to put a little money down to see what he would get. It was a simple bet of only a thousand dollars. He wasn’t necessarily worried about losing it. He just needed to know what to do. He was given his cards and smiled when the Queen of clubs dropped to the table along with the Ace of hearts. “Wow.” He said, looking at the dealer. “Twenty-one.”

“Nice work.” The woman said, sliding fifteen hundred dollars in chips over to him. “New hand.”

The beautiful cocktail waitress arrived with his soda. “How’d you do?” She asked him.

“I won.” He said to her. He took five hundred dollars worth of chips and set them on her tray. “You’re my good luck charm.”

She smiled at him and leaned in, pecking him on the cheek. “Here’s to hoping you keep it up. I’ll check in on you later. See if I’m still good luck.”

“I’m sure you will be.” Harry returned. He watched her walk away, again hypnotized by the subtle sway of her hips. He reluctantly went back to the game and continued betting small amounts, keeping it modest.

The waitress continued to bring him sodas while everyone around Harry drank deeper and heartier. She always gave him a peck on the cheek when she did so. And Harry kept winning. Every hand saw him with either twenty or twenty-one, without fail. His pile of chips was growing by the deal. After nearly four hours, he decided to call it quits. He was sitting at a hundred and twenty thousand dollars. “You were very good luck.” He said, smiling to the waitress. “What’s your name?” He asked her.

“Rita.” She said, offering her hand.

“Harry.” He said, taking it. He was quite surprised by her rather firm grip. “You’re very beautiful.” He then bit his lip. “I’m sorry. You probably hear that a lot.”

“Still nice to hear.” She said to him. “What’s next?”

“Always wanted to try roulette,” Harry said. “Don’t know much about it, though.”

“The premise is pretty simple. Put your money down and let the man toss the ball. Not much to it. But bet on twenty-six.” She whispered. “Everything you have.”

“That’s a pretty small chance of winning isn’t it?” He asked her.

She nodded. “Thirty-five to one payout if you win. But I just got a feeling about you.” She said to him. “Take a chance.” She gave him a wink. “Besides, that’s what Vegas is all about, isn’t it?”

“I suppose you’re right.” He said, nodding. He moved to the table with her beside him. “Another kiss for luck?” He asked, sheepish.

She turned his face to her and kissed him on the lips. “For luck.” She said to him. “Knock ‘em dead.” She then went back to her service. She stopped and slid back up beside him. “Tell you what, slugger? You win this toss and you’ll win a hell of a lot more than a heap of cash and a good luck kiss.” She rested a hand on his head and pushed it down to look at her cleavage. “How’s that for incentive?”

“You, you mean…” Harry looked up into her soft gray eyes. “You…me…together?”

She smiled at him and nodded. “That is _exactly_ what I mean, loverboy.” She kissed him again. “Now go win your date a shit ton of money.” She nudged him back toward the table.

Harry stared at her a moment, then turned to the game. “One hundred and forty thousand on twenty-six.” He said to the dealer.

“You sure?” The man asked him.

“Go big or go home,” Harry said, nodding. “Besides, what I stand to win _more_ than warrants the risk.”

“Your money.” The guy said as he tossed and spun. “No more bets.”

Harry watched as the ball sailed around the outside of the wheel. He bit his lip nervously. He desperately hoped Rita would continue to be as good a luck charm as she had been previously. If the ball landed where they wanted it to, he would stand to make over four million dollars at the current payout. That was _a lot_ of money. Even for him. The silver ball whipped around and around. His eyes followed it. It slowed to a crawl and began bouncing about the slots. He held his breath as it hopped a few more times and settled directly onto the twenty-six. He just stared at the wheel, not sure if what he was seeing was real.

“Winner, number twenty-six.” The dealer offered. “Congratulations, sir.” He reached up and flipped the switch on the pole. A red light began flashing. “It’s just a formality, sir. Nothing to worry about.”

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

Rita was beside him in a heartbeat. “The pit boss is going to escort you with security up to the pay window. It’s just to make sure your money’s safe.”

“I don’t think I would have won if not for you,” Harry said to the woman. “How did you know?”

“Just had a feeling.” She said, smiling at him. “I’m off shift. Buy a girl a drink?” She asked, looping her arm in with his.

“Of course,” Harry said, nodding. “It would be my pleasure.”

The pair sat in the bar with their cocktails. Rita kept it careful, but Harry hammered back his Rum and Coke before ordering another. “You might wanna take it easy.” She said to him. “I don’t want you too drunk.” She added with a smirk.

“You’re right.” He said, nodding. He slowed down and sipped his drink. “So…”

She chuckled. “You’re not exactly the flirtatious type, are you?” She asked him.

“I’m not, well, I’ve never um, I’ve never been out with a girl, to be honest.” Harry stammered.

Rita chuckled. “It shows.” She said. “You don’t have to be so nervous. I know, easier said than done.”

“You could say that,” Harry said to her. He nodded and finished his drink. He then rose to his feet, holding out his hand. “You’ve agreed to spend the night with me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be a gentleman. Would you like to have dinner with me, Rita?”

She gave him a warm smile. “I’d love to.” She took his hand and likewise got up. She veritably towered over him. She wrapped her arm around his and walked along beside him. Several people, having watched the young man win huge, stared as the pair left the casino with their heads held high. Many were the men that wished they were him at that moment and many were the women that wished they were with him. He was young and he was suddenly rich. Such things always bred envy and jealousy.

Throughout the evening, Harry wined and dined his beautiful date. He would be the first one to admit that he was rather naïve. But he was also quite intelligent. He didn’t for a moment believe that the woman on his arm had the slightest interest in him as a person. When he looked at her, he sadly, saw someone that was only with him for what she could get out of him.

But as the night wore on, he found he didn’t care so much. He was enjoying himself and he was bound and determined that the lovely Rita did likewise. The pair shared an exquisite dinner of lobster tail, paired with only the finest Chardonnay – of which he found himself most definitely _not_ a fan of – and a delicious dessert of tiramisu. _That_ , he absolutely loved.

The couple spent the evening in each other’s company talking about inconsequential things. Harry grew rather comfortable with the woman. He knew he should have been more cautious, but he dismissed the feeling. His troubles were a world away.

Or so he believed. He had a hold of Rita’s hand as they walked along beneath the beautiful lights of Fremont street. Harry stopped to stare up at the display, completely flabbergasted by the majesty of it. “It’s wonderful.” He said, whimsically.

“It’s pretty spectacular alright.” Rita offered, nodding. “I’ve been in Vegas for about five years now and I still never get tired of seeing it.”

Harry looked at her as she stared up at the sight. The light played across her pale skin and glistened off of her pale platinum hair. _She’s like an angel_ , he thought. His breath hitched in his throat as she met his eyes. He swallowed and nodded. He pulled her in and kissed her fiercely.

Rita was rather shocked at his forcefulness. She remained rigid for but a moment, before melting into the embrace. She threaded her fingers through his thick dark hair while his arms wrapped about her waist. She released her hold and reached back, taking hold of his wrists. She then slid his hands down to her bottom. Harry, though a novice to such things, understood cues when they were given. He gave a firm squeeze, drawing a genuine squeak from the woman.

The pair shared a long impassioned kiss before reluctantly pulling apart. “Rita I…” Harry began, breathless. “Wow.”

For her part, the blonde was likewise dazed. “I second that wow.” She said, resting her forehead against his.

“I know this flies against all logic, but…” He swallowed as he continued to stare into her captivating eyes. “Let’s get married. Tonight. Right now. I’m a very, very wealthy man. What I won this evening is only a small part of my fortune. Let me take care of you. You’ll want for nothing. You’ll never have to work another day of your life.”

Rita was stunned beyond belief. The boy didn’t know her. He didn’t know the _truth_ of who, _what_ she was. How could he? As she stared into his impossibly green eyes, she could see an innocence there that she knew full well shouldn’t be there. Given all he’d been through, that innocence simply had no place there. Yet, there it was. It was something to be admired, but it was also to be pitied.

When she first unleashed her feminine wiles on him, she expected to have him in her bed. She’d done so time and time again. She’d never left a man or woman unsatisfied. But she most certainly did not expect a marriage proposal before the night’s carnal activities started. She was good in bed, but this was a touch much.

With that said, however, she couldn’t say the idea didn’t intrigue her. If for no other reason than to see his reaction when he learned the truth. Before she could stop herself, she gave him a loving smile. “Yes.” She said, pulling him in and kissing him again.

The pair found an all-night Chapel and were married, strangely enough by an Elvis impersonator. Harry blew better than fifty thousand dollars on an extravagant diamond ring that sparkled in the light. “It should match the beauty of the woman whose hand it graces.” He said to her. “Unfortunately such a ring doesn’t exist, so this is the best I could do.” The sickeningly sweet words earned him another kiss that made him weak in the knees and threatened to core him like an apple.

It was nearly two in the morning by the time the pair made it back to the comped room at the hotel.

Harry was flying high on the euphoria of having thrown caution to the wind. This gorgeous blonde goddess had just agreed to spend the rest of her life with him. At that moment, he thought his life couldn’t be more perfect.

But as she stripped out of the white blouse and skirt, revealing herself to him for the first time, he quickly learned that life could get much, _much_ better.

“I love you, Rita,” He said to the woman as he drifted off.

“Tell me that in the morning, love.” She said with a chuckle.

Harry felt her response strange, but let it go as he fell asleep for the first time in a long time with a smile plastered across his face. The nightmares didn’t plague him. Only images of the lovely lady lying next to him danced seductively in his dreams.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Harry squeezed his eyes closed tighter. He groaned and rubbed his temples, wishing desperately for the headache to subside. His stomach felt as if it would empty itself at any moment. He rubbed his face with his hands. He stopped immediately when he felt the cool metal about the third finger on his left hand. He pulled it away and cracked open his eyes. His gaze locked onto the _incredibly_ expensive looking wedding ring. “Um…” He said, stammering.

“Good morning, lover.” A sultry, smoky voice offered from beside him.

He moved his eyes from the ring to the woman sitting next to him. He expected to see the blonde that had so thoroughly captivated him the evening before. That was not, however, what he was greeted with. The figure that sat, nude of form was quite possibly one of the strangest things he’d ever laid eyes on. Gone was the platinum blonde hair. In its place was a head of long silvery locks that caught the sunlight coming in through the curtains and seemed to sparkle. The eyes that looked down at him were no longer the soft gray, instead carried an icy blue shine. She was still extremely striking, but her hair, eyes, and face were by far the least of her…peculiarities.

No, what really stuck out to him…was the fact that she had six muscular arms; two of which were crossed over her generous bust, another pair were behind her head in a relaxed position. The final two, one of which looked as though it were fashioned from pale steel, were fiddling with a long narrow dagger. She was absently holding the knife in her right hand and twisting the blade against one of her metal left fingers.

Harry tore his eyes away from her upper body and again dragged his gaze down her long powerful legs. “R-Rita?” He asked, looking back up at her. “I-is that you?”

The woman smiled at him and pulled her left hand from behind her head, revealing the ring he’d purchased for her the night before. “It’s me… _sweetie_. But everyone else usually calls me Spiral.”

“What…I’m going to admit that I’m rather confused at the moment.” Harry offered, laying stone still. He pointed to the knife. “And more than a little concerned.”

“Oh, this?” Spiral asked, holding the weapon up. “Yeah, you probably should be.” She reached over and tapped his nose with the tip. “Voldemort wished for me to send his regards.” Harry, frantically looked about the room for his wand. “I assume you’re looking for this.” He turned to see her reach between her legs, lifting the long wooden implement up. As Harry grimaced, she chuckled and tapped his forehead with it. “Get your mind out of the gutter, boy. I’m not _that_ much of a deviant.” She offered it to him. “Go on, take it. It won’t do you any good, but I’m sure just holding it will make you feel a little better.”

Harry took it and tossed it onto the nightstand. “So you’re going to kill me.” He said. “Get on with it.”

“Well aren’t we a brave little soldier.” She offered.

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. He looked up into her eyes. “I’m not a soldier. Not even close. I’m a boy. A fifteen-year-old boy that’s had to deal with far too much.” He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “And I’m tired.”

She stared down at him. “You’re not the least bit scared, are you?”

“Would it change anything?” Harry asked her. He again looked up at her. “You’re just another in a long list of those that have wished me dead. Being afraid isn’t going to save me. It isn’t going to stop you.” He nodded to the knife. “Just make it quick. I’d rather not have to feel a bunch of pain before I die.”

She stopped twisting the knife and took it firmly in her hand. “Is that really what you want? To end it all?”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve been ready to die since I faced Voldemort in my first year. Figured it was just a matter of time.” He smiled and reached up, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “At least this way I got to have the best night of my life. And I die staring at something beautiful.”

She took his hand in her cybernetic limb. “You know, you’re not like the others I’ve killed.”

“Long list?” He asked, calmly.

“McDonald's needs to play catch up.” She responded. “Does this bother you?” She asked, stroking his palm with her steel thumb.

“Not particularly.” He said, shaking his head.

She lifted the knife up, poised to strike. “I promise it’ll be painless. A thank you for one of the best nights of _my_ life.” She said to him. “And for not being afraid of me.”

“I love you, Ri-, I mean _Spiral_.” He said to her. “I mean that. And it’s okay.” He pulled her hand down and kissed it. “Just do me one favor. When I’m gone, kill him. Kill Voldemort. The filing cabinet in my flat has all of my account information. Take it. Take it all as payment to kill the bastard.”

Spiral swallowed and nodded. “I promise.” Harry closed his eyes and nodded. She drew the dagger up…and struck.

Harry felt the dull thud onto his chest. It was a subtle pressure, but it didn’t hurt. _She’s right, it was painless_. He lay there, expecting to breathe his last. For several seconds, he just… lay there. No pain, no trouble breathing. Slowly, he opened one of his eyes. He looked down to see the dagger in her hand. The blade was pointing to the ceiling. The pommel of the weapon rested against the flesh in the middle of his chest. He slowly looked up into Spiral’s eyes. The pair stared at each other for nearly a minute straight. The woman’s eyes quivered as she looked at him. “Promise me something, Harry.” She said, her voice soft. “Promise me that you won’t leave me. Promise me that you won’t abandon me.”

“Spiral…”

“I like it when you call me Rita.” She offered, her voice whisper soft.

He swallowed. “Rita. It’s rather hard to have a heart to heart with you holding a very sharp knife.” He started when, without looking, she whipped the blade to the side, burying it to the hilt in the wall with a hard _thud-d-d-d-d_ , causing it to vibrate. He sat up and knelt in front of her. “Why didn’t you do it?”

She bit her lip and gazed at him. “I didn’t want to.” She said to him. “I…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m a killer, Harry.”

“So you’ve said.” He moved forward, resting his hands beside her neck. “Do you have to be?”

“You’re gonna hate me.” She said to him. She swallowed. “This is the first time I’m going to regret saying this.” She sniffed. “I _enjoy_ it.” She again shook her head. “I am _not_ a nice person. Everything you fell in love with last night, everything I showed you…was a lie. It was an act.”

“Was it?” He asked, cocking his head. He took one of her hands, the one with the ring and threaded his fingers through hers. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m telling you-,” She began to protest.

“Why did you say yes?” He asked her.

“Because it would have been rude as shit to say no. I may be an assassin, but even I’m not _that_ big of a bitch.” She said with a chuckle. “Jesus.”

Harry snorted. “Okay, bad example. But you didn’t do it.” He looked at the knife. “You could have and you didn’t.” He looked back at her. “Why?”

“Because I…” She stopped and let out a sharp breath. She didn’t want to admit that…

“Because you _care_.” Harry finished for her. “There’s something in here,” He tapped her chest. “There’s something human still left in here.” He gnawed his lip a heartbeat. “Are, are you human? I’ve never read of any race that has six arms, I’m not going to lie.”

She sniggered. “Yes, Harry. I’m human. I’m just-,” She suddenly grew angry. “I was made this way.”

“Through magic?” Harry asked, looking at her arms again.

“Partially.” He held up her metal arm. “And science. I’m, well, let’s just say I’m not from around here. I’m from a different dimension. I was banished here by my creator. Now I’m trapped here.” She lowered her head. “Alone.”

“No,” Harry said, lifting her head to look at him. “Not alone. Whatever the pretenses or, or act you may be been putting on last night, you _are_ my wife.” He again held up her hand with the ring. “Until this comes off, I will be forever by your side.” He shook his head. “I don’t care if you enjoy killing people. I’ve got a power mad dark wizard with an army of followers bent on killing me. You know that. If you enjoy what you do, then do it to them. I’ll lose no sleep over it.”

“So you don’t mind be married to a freak?” She asked him. She snaked all six arms about him. “Really?”

He straddled her lap. “Not at all.” He said, leaning in to kiss her. He then moved back and furrowed his brow. “How did Voldemort find you?”

“Got a letter and a photograph of you in the mail along with a vault key for the Gringotts in Diagon Alley. When I asked around, I found out who sent it.”

“Did you check the vault?” Harry asked her.

“Made sure it had the gold he claimed it did. He apparently didn’t wanna piss me off.” She said to him.

“I’ll give you all of my-,” Harry began.

“No. You aren’t gonna have to give me anything. As long as you’re willing to stay with me and not abandon me like everyone else has, that’s enough for me. I’m tired of being alone.”

“Unless I get killed by Voldemort-,”

She again cut him off. “Then I’ll kill the son of a bitch and all his followers. I’ll kill anyone I have to to keep you. I’m not going to be alone anymore. I don’t care what it takes.”

Harry nodded. “Then I’ll stay with you for the rest of my life, however long that might be.”

“In all my freakish glory?” She asked with a smile.

Harry leaned in and kissed her passionately. “Not freakish, just glorious.” He said to her. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Last night was I…was I any good?”

“Not really, no.” She said to him. “But you’re fifteen and you’re a virgin. I didn’t expect you to be. I mean, you were better than I _thought_ you’d be, but good doesn’t quite describe it.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, sadly.

“Hey, buck up, kiddo. We’re married. We’ve got all the time in the world to practice.” She held him in her many arms and lay him on the bed. “And no time like the present to start.”

He closed his eyes as she lowered her mouth over him. Her tongue was _incredibly_ long and wrapped about him like a serpent. “Oh my God.” He was stiff again in no time. “If you keep doing that…” He let out as his body began to shudder.

She kept her mouth firmly in place as he convulsed. Her throat worked as she swallowed everything he had to offer. She rose up, licking her lips. She was ecstatic to see him still rock hard. “God, I love youth,” She said as she climbed and straddled his lap. “Ready for this, baby?”

He looked up at her and nodded. “You’re beautiful, Rita. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” He gripped her thighs tightly.

She gave him a warm smile before lowering herself down over him. He wasn’t the largest she’d been with, but he still felt nice. _And he’s just gonna get bigger_ , she thought to herself. “Mmm, that’s nice.” She said, settling down. She began rocking back and forth atop him. She rested two hands on his chest, kneading the muscle found there. Another pair began to squeeze her breasts, while her final pair of hands settled on Harry’s legs.

Harry did his best to match her rhythm. After a few seconds, he seemed to get it down and kept pace with her. Having already gone once, he was able to last quite a bit longer.

The silver haired assassin leaned her head back, moaning sensually as she rode him. “I’m close, Harry. I’m close…” She offered, breathlessly. “Just a bit more.” 

Harry followed his instincts and sat up. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close. He then drove into her hard and fast. She encircled his body with her legs as he hammered into her again and again.

“Oh God…oh, God…oh, _God_!” She closed her eyes and buried her face against his neck as she began to shake violently. “Harry, I’m gonna… I’m gonna-,”

“I love you, Rita.” He offered as he thrust into her. “I always will.” He crushed her against him, pushing violently within her.

She let out one final shudder as she was pushed into a spine-numbing climax. She threw her head back and screamed his name.

The sudden tremor and tightening of her body brought Harry right along with her. He grunted as he released everything he had into her. The pair sat for a long moment, just enjoying the feel of each other. Neither spoke, they just rested, breathing heavily.

It felt a little strange to Harry having six strong hands kneading the muscles on his back, but he found that it was something he could easily get used to.

“Okay…” Rita offered, humor in her voice. “That?” She leaned back and looked Harry in the eyes. “ _That_ was _good_.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, reaching up and pushing a lock of silver hair from her eyes.

“Very.” She offered, kissing him lovingly. She then bit her lip. “You know, I never thought to ask Mojo.”

Harry cocked his head. “Mojo?”

“The bastard that genetically modified me into this,” She said, motioning up and down her form.

“What didn’t you ask him?”

“Whether I can get pregnant or not.” She rested a pair of her arms on his shoulders.

“Guess we’ll just have to find out,” Harry said, smiling. He ran his hands over her stomach. “I think you’d be adorable with a large round belly.”

“Really?” She asked him. “You’d put up with horrible mood swings-,”

“Chocolate and a foot massage.” Harry piped in.

“Morning sickness-,”

“Rubbing your back while holding your hair out of the way.”

“Bizarre food cravings-,”

“Well stocked pantry and plenty of take-away on speed dial.”

She chuckled and kissed him once again. “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“Being prepared for his wife’s every whim is a husband’s job,” Harry said back.

“So what do we do now?” She asked him.

“We could do what I promised you last night. Travel the world, see the sights. Live free, doing as we wish, going where we want.” He held her close. “Anything you desire, you’ve only to speak it and I’ll see that you have it.”

She stared at him a moment and laughed out loud. “God, you’re a sap.”

“True,” Harry said, kissing her fiercely. “But I’m _your_ sap.”

“Thank you.” She said, wiping her eyes. “I need to laugh.” She then turned serious. “But you know what you need to do. And you know where we need to go.”

Harry sighed heavily. “You’re just looking forward to killing Death Eaters, aren’t you?”

“If Death is what they choose to feast on, then who I am to deny them?” She asked.

“And Apple Brown Betty, but mostly death,” Harry added.

“What the-?” She snorted. “I don’t even know how to _make_ Apple Brown Betty.”

“The house elves at Hogwarts make a fantastic Apple Brown Betty,” Harry said. “Sorry. Sort of a nerd moment.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She said to him. “Oh, before I forget…” She moved off of him and stood by the side of the bed. “Lay down. I’ve got to deal with something.”

Harry did as he was instructed. He then watched as Rita began moving her arms in rhythmic fashion and dancing very, _very_ seductively. As she danced, he found himself falling in love with her all over again. After a few seconds, however, his thoughts were drawn to his scar. It was starting to throb and burn. He fought the urge to rub it. She continued to move and sway, collecting magical energy about herself as she did so. Soon her hands were all aglow with an eldritch light. She stopped dancing and slid up to the bed and drew her arms back. Suddenly, with lightning speed, all six of her hands lashed out, diving toward his forehead. His eyes crossed as he followed their path. Her hands were all buried to the wrist in his skull, yet all he felt was a bit of a burning and uncomfortable pulsating of his heartbeat.

Rita stood, her muscular arms tensing as she looked to be pulling something free. “Come on, you son of a-,” She grunted and heaved with all of her strength. The muscles in her arms bulged as she worked. Slowly, her hands drew back. Clutched in their grip was a black shadowy phantasm. Harry recognized the ghostly image immediately. It’s mouth open in a silent scream. “I gotcha you bastard,” She snarled. Finally, with a sound like a bullwhip, she tore the phantom free of him.

The shade of Voldemort wisped about in the air. “YOU!” It’s ghostly voice rattled the room. “You _dare_!”

Rita quickly moved her hands in an intricate pattern. “Harry’s mine, now. Get your own geek!” She spun and thrust all six hands at him. The specter was blasted apart into nothing save a fine black powder.

“I’m not a geek. I happen to be a jock, thank you. I’m on the Quidditch team.” Harry said, matter of fact.

She just held up her metal fist, letting him see the reflection in the back of her hand. “Dude. Geek.”

“Fair point.” Harry conceded. “How did you know?”

“I could feel him when we were together last night. That’s how he knew where to find you. He’s been watching you since his return.” She shook her head. “But now, he ain’t got a clue. Which means we need to act fast.”

“Then it looks like we’re going back to England.” He looked at his new bride and himself. “Though we might want to put on clothes first.”

She looked down at herself. “Probably should slip into something a little less… _alien_.”

“Drat,” Harry said, pouting.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry and Spiral appeared in a flash of light inside the small bedroom the boy occupied at 4 Privet Drive. The pair had discussed at length what the girl was going to do and how she was going to manage to stay close to him as he completed his schooling.

They settled on her being an exchange student from America. She would become Rita Wayward, New York native. Her appearance quickly melted to that of a tall, muscular teenage girl with long platinum blonde hair, deep emerald green eyes – much like Harry’s – and a rather voluptuous figure, much to Harry’s delight. Though he would rather have her as she was without the magic – and he told her as much, which made her quite happy – both understood the need for such deception. “If I’m gonna have to be something I not, I might as well be something good.” She offered to him.

Harry smiled at her and kissed her on the lips. “There’s still the issue of my Aunt and Uncle.” He said, sadly. “And my trial. I missed the date that was set. I just know there’s going to be fallout.”

“One problem at a time.” Rita offered him. “First we have to deal with-,” She was cut off as she heard the footsteps thundering up the stairs. “Speak of the devil.” She said, grinning.

“Don’t kill them,” Harry said, his tone hushed.

“I won’t. I promise I won’t lay a hand on them.” She returned. “You have my word.”

“I don’t find that the least bit comforting or reassuring,” Harry said to her. “I don’t want them dead. At all.”

Rita sighed heavily. “Fine.” She said, pouting. “Anything short of killing them, though, right?”

Harry stared at her. He had to admit, he wasn’t thrilled with the fact that she seemed far too eager to engage in violence. But on the other hand… “They have to be breathing when all is said and done.”

“Fair enough,” Rita said, kissing him passionately. “I promise I won’t even lift a finger to hurt any of them.”

“Alright,” Harry said, nodding. He knew he shouldn’t have signed off like he did, but there was something gratifying about the fact that his love was willing to do such things for him. He took a dark glee from it.

The heavy footsteps stopped at the door a heartbeat before it burst open, revealing Vernon Dursley in all of his plump red-faced fury. “Boy!” He shouted, menacingly. “Where the hell have you-?” He ceased speaking as soon as he saw Rita standing beside him. “Who the _hell_ are you?”

She narrowed her eyes and reached out toward him. “You need to stop talking.” She said as she clenched her fist.

“Ah, good _Lord_!” Harry said in fright as Vernon’s face was suddenly without a mouth. “That’s incredibly creepy.” He looked to Rita. “And I’ve seen a man’s face on the back of another man’s head.”

“That had to have been trippy.” She offered. “If I wanted, I could put his face on his ass.”

“No, I don’t think you need to do that,” Harry responded. Though the imagery was nightmarish, he found the sight of Vernon stumbling about, clutching at his face to be rather humorous.

Rita moved up to Vernon, wrapped her hand about his neck and effortlessly lifted his massive bulk from the floor. She cocked her head and stared into his eyes as he tried to free himself. She said nothing to him but bore into his mind with hers. Her mental commands would be followed to the letter and would, once carried out, see the man never bothering her or Harry again. After she was satisfied, she released him, and his large lipped mouth reappeared. He stood, dazed before turning and leaving the room. “Your problem should be solved shortly.” She said, turning back to him.

“What did you do?” Harry asked. “What is he doing?”

“Taking a hint.” Rita offered with a smile. She eased him over onto the bed and sat down beside him. “Just relax and listen to the concerto.”

So listen Harry did. And what he heard nearly turned his stomach. Petunia let out a shriek before Vernon began beating her with a golf club. The woman wailed and screamed pitifully as the sounds of the driver hitting flesh echoed through the house. Harry rose to his feet to intervene but six powerful arms wrapped around him and stopped him. “He’s going to kill her!” He shouted.

“No, he isn’t.” Spiral offered. “I’ve made sure of it.” She pulled him down to sit in her lap. Harry struggled, despite knowing it was completely fruitless. It didn’t take long for Petunia’s cries to fall silent. “See? Over before you knew it.” She said, leaning in and kissing the side of his neck. “One down, one to go.”

“No, not Dudley,” Harry said, once again trying to free himself.

“Yeah, Dudley,” Spiral said, smiling. “Him most of all. No one fucks with my baby and gets away with it.” She held him fast, nibbling on his neck.

Harry could do nothing but listen to Dudley’s surprized yelp before the golf club cracked against his skull. He was quieted much quicker than his mother. His heart fell further when he heard Vernon’s voice on the phone. “Yes, I live at 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging. I’ve called to inform you that I’ve just beaten my wife and my son nearly to death with a Maruman Majesty Prestigio 9 Driver. Both are bleeding quite badly.” He paused a moment. “Yes, an ambulance would be a splendid idea. Oh, I’m not going anywhere. There’s a program I can watch until the authorities show up.” He paused again. “No, no firearms in the house. I owned a shotgun once upon a time but a giant bent the barrel up and I disposed of it. Very good. I’ll be here.” He then hung the phone up.

Spiral finally released the boy. “There. All over.” She said, smiling. He got to his feet and turned to her, glaring. “The police will come and pick him up and he’ll be sent away for a good long while. Petunia and Dudley will both get the medical help they need.” She leaned back on the bed provocatively. “Nothing to it.”

He simply stared at her, rage boiling. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“What?” She asked him, sitting back up. “You told me not to kill them, so I didn’t. Make no mistake, I could have had Vernon beat both of them to death.”

Harry groaned and rubbed his face in his hands. “I know you could have. And I know you would have probably enjoyed it.” He dropped his hands and leaned against the door. “I think this was a bad idea.” He said, looking at her sadly. “I thought,” He sighed. “I thought I might have been able to deal with you like this but…”

Spiral slowly rose to her feet and moved closer to him. “What are you saying, Harry?” She asked him.

“You,” He pointed to her. “And this,” He thumbed back out the door. “I can’t, this isn’t what I wanted.”

She stopped and stared down at him. All six of her arms rested on the wood on either side of his head. “What _did_ you want?” She asked him. “I can’t give it to you if you don’t tell me.”

“I didn’t want _this_!” He snapped. “For God’s sake, Spiral. I didn’t want my Uncle caving his family’s heads in.” He stared up at her and cocked his head. “Is this what I can expect from you?”

Spiral was angry. She wasn’t angry at Harry. He was a fairly innocent boy, all things considered. He was just reacting how boys his age react. Yes, she found the whole prospect of what she’d done to be absolutely hilarious. She honestly felt that Harry would, at the very least, take some satisfaction in the act itself. They treated the boy like crap and now they were paying for it. It was just desserts as far as she was concerned. But seeing Harry’s reaction now, she wasn’t so sure.

And what angered her was that he was disappointed and it was her actions that brought him there. She was angry because she let him down. Were it literally _anyone_ else and she wouldn’t have cared. She would have just went on her way and left it at that. But for reasons that she couldn’t explain, she cared about him. She loved him. She wanted him to be happy to be with her. She wanted him to _want_ to be with her. So with a soft sigh, she lowered her eyes, letting her long silver hair fall over her face. “I’m sorry, Harry.” She offered, her tone sad.

Harry continued to look at his wife. He knew that the words were difficult for her to say. She was very much a woman that did what she wished when she wished and to whom she wished. She was an evil woman. But from what Harry had learned from her, she hadn’t always been. He truly believed that something of the woman she was before she became what she is now was still in her, desperately trying to get out. It would just be a long, hard road.

The first time he’d spoken with Spiral, and not Rita, he’d made a promise that he wouldn’t abandon her. He wouldn’t turn his back on her. Harry prided himself on his word. He had nothing to give but that. And so when he made a promise, he did everything within his power to keep it. And he would do so now. He slowly lifted his hand and softly caressed Spiral’s cheek with his thumb. “I forgive you.” He said to her. “You are just doing as you have done since Mojo did this to you.” He touched her chin and lifted her head to look into her eyes. “I love you.”

She stood, staring at him. “They hurt you, Harry.” She said, pulling him closer. “I don’t give a shit about anyone else on this planet but you. I don’t want anyone hurting you. The rest of the world can burn if you and I can live happily in the ashes.”

Harry felt her strong arms about him. With her, he felt incredibly safe. He knew that everything she did, she would do for him. Even this was for him. Yes, she enjoyed it, but if he hadn’t have brought her here, she would never have entertained the thought. _It really wouldn’t have gone any other way,_ he thought quickly. The sirens sounding stole their attention. He pulled back and looked up at her, nodding.

Spiral once again began dancing around the room. Harry watched intently, his heart beating faster. _Gods, she’s beautiful_.

A moment later the pair was gone, reappearing down the street, in a darkened alley. They watched as the police and the ambulance pulled everyone from the home. Vernon was frantically screaming for his wife. He tried getting away from the officers as the paramedics wheeled Petunia and Dudley out of the house on gurneys.

The officers in charge of Vernon were none too ginger with him as they put him into the back of the squad car.

Spiral suddenly looked up into the air. She tapped Harry and pointed. He narrowed his eyes and smiled as he recognized the form of Remus Lupin and Alastor ‘Mad Eye’ Moody upon their brooms. The pair circled until the last of the police officers drove away. They both then dropped to the ground and quickly entered the house. “Come on,” Harry said, moving out of the alley. Spiral once again took on the persona of Rita Wayward and followed along behind him.

They made it to the house and ran inside.

“He’s not here!” Moody snarled from upstairs. “The old hag was wrong.”

“We don’t know that, Alastor. Harry could have-,” Remus began as he came down the stairs but stopped as soon as he saw Harry standing in the doorway.

“Hello Professor Lupin,” Harry said, smiling.

The man rushed down and threw his arms around the boy. “God, Harry. Where have you _been_?”

“I went to America for a while,” Harry said. “Just to clear my head a bit.” He stepped aside and motioned to the blonde beside him. “This is my girlfriend, Rita. I met her in the states.”

She moved up and offered her hand to the pair. “Mr. Lupin. Mr. Moody. Harry’s told me a lot about you.”

Lupin took her hand immediately, giving her a bright smile and a “Pleased to meet you, Rita.”

Moody, however, was a bit more tactless. He didn’t take her hand, which she expected, and narrowed his one good eye at her. “What are you doing in England?” He asked sharply.

She pulled Harry in and hugged him. “I guess you could say I fell in love. I plan on starting my sixth year at Hogwarts soon.”

Moody looked at her for a few seconds more, then turned to Harry. “The letter you got told you not to go anywhere. Why didn’t you do as you were told?”

Harry glared at the man. “Because I’m not a disobedient dog. And I’m tired of everyone talking _about_ me, everyone talking _for_ me, and everyone talking _at_ me, but no one talking _to_ me.” He shook his head. “I’m done with it. I’ve decided I’m going to start doing as _I_  want. No one else seems to care what I want, aside from Rita, here.”

“We’re trying to look out for you,” Remus said. “We just want to keep you safe. There are a lot of things-,”

“Voldemort, I know,” Harry said. He saw the looks on their faces as they flicked their eyes to Rita. “Don’t worry, she knows. She’s been following the _Daily Prophet_ in America. They also have papers that cover Wizard news. She knows what’s been going on.”

Moody gave a nod. “You’re too important-,”

“ _Why_?” Harry asked. “All I know is Voldemort is after me and I haven’t the faintest idea why. What did I do?”

“Simply put?” Moody said. “You survived.”

“That’s vague.” Rita offered with a snort.

Remus narrowed his eyes and slowly reached out, pushing Harry’s bangs aside. “Alastor, have a look at this.”

The man leaned in, uncomfortably close. “What happened to your scar?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t do anything. Why?”

“It’s fading,” Lupin said. “It’s practically gone. Last time I saw you, it was still rather prominent.”

Harry shook his head and again shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“We need to leave,” Moody said. “It’s not safe here anymore.”

“What about my trial?” Harry asked, suddenly remembering. “What did the Wizengamot say?”

“Given that you’d just gone missing and no one knew where you were, they decided to postpone the trial until you were found. We must be quick. It won’t take long for them to learn you’ve returned.” Lupin offered. He looked to Rita a moment, then took Harry’s arm and pulled him to the side. Once they were away from the girl, Remus leaned down and whispered in Harry’s ear. “Do you trust her, Harry? I mean, really, _really_ trust her?” The boy turned to look at the elder wizard. “Her presence seems rather convenient.”

Harry agreed with the man. And he knew precisely _why_ it was so convenient. But Lupin wasn’t the one to admit that to. “I trust her.” He said to the man.

“Alright. We’re all trusting your judgment.” Remus said.

Rita couldn’t help but snort and snicker when she realized that Harry was going to be traveling with her on his broom. Moody was somewhat surprised to learn that she didn’t have one.

She held on tightly to the boy and watched as the city raced by below them. It was a rather fantastic sight if she were, to be honest.

A half-hour later, they dropped from the sky onto a darkened street. Harry was handed a slip of paper with an address on it and told to memorize it. Rita was informed to do likewise. Once they were satisfied, Moody took the scrap and set it on fire with his wand. The four of them then watched as a tall dingy townhouse seemed to sprout between a pair of like residences.

“That’s something you don’t see every day,” Rita offered. They moved up the stairs and in through the front door. “Wow,” She said, covering her nose. “This place needs a serious cleaning.”

Harry noticed the strong mildew smell but thought nothing of it. The cupboard he’d lived in was far worse by comparison. After a few moments, a soft hissing sound filled the hall, then lights began to brighten the foyer. At the end of the still dim hallway, a short plump woman with bright right hair and a cheerful smile came trundling toward them. “Mrs. Weasley,” Harry offered quietly.

“Harry,” She whispered, happily. “It’s good to see you again.” She stepped back and looked at Rita. “And who is this?”

“Rita Wayward, ma’am.” She said, offering her hand. “Harry speaks very highly of you.”

“Rita’s my girlfriend. We met in America.”

“We’ve got to keep it quiet. We don’t want to wake anything up.” Molly offered in a hushed tone.

“Sorry,” Rita said. Harry nodded.

Molly took her hands and looked her up and down. “My, aren’t you a looker.” She said with the same chipper tone. She then looked to Moody and Lupin with a questioning gaze.

The pair simply shrugged. “Harry trusts her.” Remus offered. “That’s good enough for me.”

Molly nodded, letting that be the end of it. She looked at Remus and Moody. “The others are in the kitchen. I’ll show them to their rooms and meet you shortly.” The pair nodded and shuffled past, heading for the door at the end of the hall. Harry watched them go, catching a glimpse of Sirius as the door swung open. The animagus gave him a warm smile before the wood slid shut. “Ron and Hermione are upstairs. No doubt they’ll want to hear of your adventures and meet your new friend.” She led them up the steps.

Rita took it all in and couldn’t help but smirk. To her, it looked like a home many she knew would occupy. “This is cozy.” She said, pecking Harry on the side of the neck.

“You’re twisted.” Harry returned.

“And don’t you just think that’s adorable?” She whispered into his ear.

“Could be worse.” Harry shot back with a grin.


	5. Chapter 5

Rita sat quietly on the bed watching the girl named Hermione and the redhead Ron. She paid little attention to the conversation the three of them were having. Instead, she focused on what was being discussed downstairs. She could hear perfectly what was being said. Her trustworthiness was a very serious topic for the group. She couldn’t help but smile. _How little they know_ , she thought with humor.

Both Hermione and Ron grilled her on where she was from, where she and Harry met and all of the standard ‘he’s our friend, so we have to know everything’ questions. She kept her background vague, sharing only what she felt they should know.

Finally, the group was gathered to have dinner. “You will be coming with me to work tomorrow.” Arthur offered. “We should get your trial out of the way.”

“I’ll be going with him,” Rita piped in. Her voice left no room for discussion.

“I don’t believe that wise,” Molly Weasley said. Many around the table nodded their agreement.

Rita stared at the woman with a raised eyebrow. “And that matters to me because…?”

All of the children present blanched and snorted as Molly narrowed her eyes.  “It should matter to _you_ because Harry is like a son to me and I know what’s best for him.” She snapped.

Rita smiled at her, but it wasn’t pleasant. “Really?” She slowly shook her head. “I can assure you,  Mrs. Weasley, you don’t know Harry half as well as I do and nowhere near as well as you think you do.” She shook her head. “It isn’t negotiable. I’m going with him tomorrow. This conversation is over.”

“Now see here-,” Molly began indignantly. Rita simply snapped her fingers. Molly’s mouth immediately closed. She struggled to continue speaking, but her lips stayed firmly together. Everyone in the room watched the exchange with a mix of surprise, astonishment, and horror.

“I want everyone in this room to understand something right now. I don’t like repeating myself, so listen closely.” She locked eyes with every single one of them, in turn, to make sure they were looking at her. “Harry is mine. There is nothing – and I do mean _nothing_ – that I will not do for him. I’m gonna let that sink in for a second. And while you’re mulling that over, I want it understood that no one in this room can even hold a candle to me. The power I’m capable of is beyond anything any of you can even comprehend, let alone hope to compete with.” She paused a moment before settling her eyes back on Molly Weasley, who was staring at her with tight-lipped rage. “He’s my man and I’ll be the one that determines what’s best for him.”

For several seconds no one spoke. To a person, they were too afraid of the girl to say anything. Finally, it was Arthur that broke the silence. “Would you, would you be so kind as to …undo whatever it was you did so my wife can speak again?”

Rita looked at him and stared back at Molly a moment. She then snapped her fingers once again. Molly’s lips parted as the woman took a breath. For a full heartbeat, she maintained her silence. She then began screaming at the top of her lungs, “I want you out of this house and away from Harry _immediately_!”

“Don’t forget whose house this is, Molly!” Sirius interjected.

“You shut your mouth, Sirius Black. This has nothing to do with you.”

Rita rose to her feet and put a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “It’s alright.” She said to him, offering a sweet, loving smile. She then turned to Molly. Her expression changed in a split second. Her eyes were narrowed and her brow was furled. “Is that really what you want? If I leave, Harry goes with me.”

“I said I want you-,” Molly began.

Rita cut her off as if she hadn’t spoken a word. “Because my read in the landscape is that none of you, not a single one of you has the chops to take Voldemort down.” She reached down and offered her hand to Harry. He took it immediately and stepped up to her. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “You all need him far, _far_ more than he needs you. Which is, you know, not at all. He leaves and the Order of the Phoenix is just ordering take out.” She stared directly at Molly. “You might wanna think about that.”

The woman leaned forward onto the table. “You’re nothing but a little brat that thinks she knows everything. Knowing a few parlor tricks doesn’t make you-,”

“Mrs. Weasley? Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to know just what it is I’m capable of.” She looked down at Harry. “I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

He sighed as he looked at Sirius. “Can we come by tomorrow?”

“You’re not going anywhere, Harry. You need to-,” Molly began. She was beyond enraged.

“I’m done listening to you talk. You say one more work and I’ll rip your tongue out.” Rita said to her. The woman was really beginning to get on her nerves. White lightning rippled across her skin. “I swear to fucking God.”

“Rita, that’s enough,” Harry said, sternly. She whipped her eyes to him, glaring at him. He swallowed as he stared at her. “Mrs. Weasley has been very kind to me when she didn’t have to be. She worries about me. All of these people do.”

“Not enough to prepare you for who you’re supposed to be fighting.” She offered.

“That’s not-,” Molly began. Rita’s icy stare stopped her words in their tracks.

Sirius, however, took up. “She’s right,” He said looking about the room. Many gathered looked at him as if he were mad. He shook his head and continued. “When Harry encountered Voldemort in his first year, he should have been told everything. Yes, it would have been hard for a boy of his age to hear but he should have been told nevertheless. In his second year, he fought an enormous Basilisk with his eyes closed and prevailed. There isn’t a wizard in this room, nay in the Order as a whole that can make such a claim. Even Dumbledore would hesitate to engage in such a contest. But Harry did. He also saved young Ginny from a terrible fate, once again vanquishing the specter of Voldemort. Once again, he was denied knowledge about the force that sought to destroy him.” He moved over and rested his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “That knowledge would have seen you far better prepared for your meeting of Voldemort in the flesh after the Tri-Wizard Tournament.” He sighed and shook his head once again. “I am sorry, Harry. I should have told you everything I knew.”

Harry smiled at him, patting his hands, before hugging the man. “You weren’t exactly flush with opportunity.”

“You don’t have to go,” Sirius said. He looked to Rita. He was still very, _very_ uneasy about the girl but her love for Harry and Harry’s for her was unmistakable. “Either of you.”

Harry looked to Rita. The pair stared into each other’s eyes for almost a minute, saying nothing. Finally, Rita nodded. Harry kissed her and smiled. He then looked to Sirius. “We’ll be staying.”

The animagus nodded, then turned to Rita. “I will have a civil tongue in my house.”

There were many things she could have said but she liked Sirius. Harry also thought the world of him. So she held her tongue and gave him a nod. “My apologies. I meant no disrespect to you.”

He took the apology at face value. “Then it’s settled.”

Rita decided she was going to go one better and looked to Molly. “I understand what Harry means to you. You’ve done much for him and, from everything I’ve seen, have been more a mother than anyone else in the boy’s life. For that, you have my thanks. I love him with all my heart and do not want anything bad happening to him. He’s been through a lot and doesn’t need any more emotional or mental turmoil.”

Molly stared at her long and hard. “Can I say something without fear of you mutilating me?” Her tone was sharp and tight. Rita gave her a nod. “I don’t like you. I think you’re a horrible influence on Harry and are going to teach him habits that he has no business having. You’re rude, you’re arrogant, you’re disrespectful, and were I to have my druthers, you would never see each other again.” She paused a moment to make sure Rita understood. “But it isn’t up to me. As much as I hate to admit it, Harry is old enough to make his own decisions. If he wishes to be with you, I have no authority or right to interfere.” She looked at Harry, pleading. “Don’t let her change you, Harry. You’re such a sweet, caring boy. Don’t let her take that away from you. You don’t need to be like her to succeed.”

Harry bit his lip as he looked from Molly to Rita. “She’s right,” His wife offered. “You don’t have to be like me. God willing, you never will be.” She had a smirk on her face.

Harry knew full well what she meant. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Weasley,” he said, turning back to the family matriarch. “Rita isn’t going to make me into what she is. She’s from a much harder and more brutal world than I am. What she is is, well, frankly impossible for me to become.” Rita smiled at his choice of words.

Molly, and indeed everyone present, took his words as they were. None of them could know the truth behind what the boy was saying.

Rita pulled Harry down and kissed him. “I love you.” She said to him. “Come on. Let me take your mind off of your trial for a night.”

Molly opened her mouth to say something but Arthur rested a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. She didn’t condone the pair sleeping together. “It’s not proper.” She said in a hushed whisper.

“Look at Harry’s ring finger.” Arthur offered. “Then look at hers.”

Molly squinted as the pair began leaving the kitchen. Sure as her children had red hair, there were two matching gold rings on both teenager’s hands. “Are they-?” She looked to her husband. “Are they _married_?”

Arthur nodded. “I believe they are, yes.”

“Why didn’t Harry say something?” She asked him.

“Because he knew how you’d react. He knew you’d lecture him on being too young.” Sirius responded. “Because you can’t seem to let well enough alone. He’s happy. That should be all that matters to you.” He turned and made for the exit of the kitchen. “But you don’t see that.”

Molly frowned as she turned to Arthur. “He _is_ too young to be married. They’re both just children.”

The large wizard pulled his wife in and kissed her. “Harry hasn’t been a child for a very long time.”

Molly wanted desperately to deny that. She really, _really_ did. But she couldn’t. Harry had to deal with things in the past four years that none of those present could imagine. Sirius was right. There’s so much they should have told the boy; who Voldemort was, why he wanted Harry dead…and what Harry might be called to do. “He’s grown up far too fast.” She said, leaning against her husband.

Arthur said nothing. Because there wasn’t really anything _to_ say.

 

Rita fell onto the bed beside Harry, sweat soaking her skin and matting her platinum blonde hair to the side of her face. She rested her head on his shoulder and listened to his even breathing. She flicked her eyes to his face to see him fast asleep. She smiled and climbed to her feet stealthily, leaving him unconscious on the bed. She donned the bathrobe she’d been given and left the room. She padded through the house, looking for someone specific.

A sudden motion to the side caught her attention. She spun, summoning her considerable power. The figure stopped in its tracks, becoming motionless. She walked toward the short, shadowy form. She lifted her hand and called forth of a globe of light. The illumination revealed a bent, dusky-skinned creature with a large scimitar-like nose, long droopy ears, and a sour expression. As she drew nearer to him, she could see a mix of fear, anger, and fascination in his narrow eyes. Harry had spoken of house elves. “I take it if I were to ask, you could direct me to the master of the house?” After a moment, she waved her hand, allowing him to move again.

“Kreature can take you to the master of house Black.” He said, his voice low and raspy. “Follow.” He motioned her along.

She followed him down to the kitchen. He swept his hand toward the door. She nodded to him and stepped past, pushing it open. Sirius Black sat at the table with Remus Lupin chatting idly. Both turned when she entered. She closed the door behind her and moved to the large iron stove. She pulled down a mug and poured hot water from the kettle sitting on the burner. She pulled a pair of leaves from the masonry jar on the counter and dropped them into the water. She turned and walked smoothly to the table as the tea slowly swirled in her cup. She sat down across from the pair and sipped her tea. For several seconds no one said anything. Remus sniffed the air and narrowed his eyes at her. “Isn’t he a little young?” He finally asked.

Rita gave him a wry smile. “Yes, he is. And there hasn’t been a night since meeting him that I haven’t reveled in the fact.” She sipped her tea again. “He’s got unbelievable stamina.”

Sirius stared at her long and hard. “You aren’t what you claim to be.” He said simply.

“Is anyone _truly_ what they claim to be?” Rita asked. “The world is filled with those that show only what they believe others want to see. No one truly puts themselves on display.” She shrugged. “We all have secrets, Mr. Black.”

“What are your intentions?” Remus asked, point blank.

“Regarding?” She returned.

“Toward Harry, in regards to Voldemort, everything. What is it you’re planning to do?”

She sighed and rested her chin in her hand. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. In time, I plan on finding Voldemort and destroying him. Utterly and completely.”

“He was destroyed once,” Sirius said, sternly. “He’s obviously returned.”

“I know. I also know how and why.” Rita said, again sipping her tea. “This is rather good, I have to admit. Could use a touch of rum, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Remus asked, looking at the girl. He ignored her comment on the quality of the tea. “Even Dumbledore doesn’t know that.”

“I’m Harry’s wife. It’s my job to know.” Rita responded. At both men’s surprised looks, she lifted her hand, showing them the beautiful gold ring. “Did you think this was just for show?”

“Harry’s only fifteen years old,” Remus said angrily. “He’s just a child.”

Rita grinned. “Funny. He doesn’t fuck like a child.”

Sirius snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. Remus frowned keenly. “He’s not old enough to get married. Neither are you.”

“You know, I don’t think that’s a choice you get to make. That and you know, we’re already married.” She said to him. “I make Harry happy. That’s all that matters to me. I don’t really give a steaming shit what anyone else thinks.”

“What do you know of Voldemort?” Sirius asked. “And how do you plan on seeking him out and destroying him? I don’t know about the rest of the Order, but I’d like to help if I can.”

“You’re going to trust her? Just like that?” Remus asked his friend. “How do we know she isn’t-?”

“Moony? If she truly wanted to destroy us, I’m fairly certain she could have done so long before now.” Sirius looked at her. “Isn’t that right?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” She remarked.

“I just-,” Remus once again began to protest.

“Trust me or not, werewolf,” Rita said. “The choice is yours. Harry trusts me and his trust is the only person's I actually value. I don’t have a single fuck to give if you trust me or not.” She looked to Sirius. “As you said, Voldemort was killed. His body was destroyed and he was forced to exist primarily in the Astral Plane. That means, at some point, his soul, his essence was removed from his physical form and placed into another vessel of some sort. As paranoid as he seems, I’m guessing he’s got multiple phylacteries.” She shook her head. “It isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”

“How can you have _possibly_ seen such things before? Creating a phylactery is impossible.” Remus snapped. “You’re speaking nonsense.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not what I claim to be, remember?”

“Then, at the risk of being insulting, what _exactly_ are you?” Sirius asked.

She once again smiled. “I'm the fear that keeps you awake, I'm the shadows on the wall. I'm the monsters they become, I'm the nightmare in your skull. I'm a dagger in your back, an extra turn on the rack. I'm the quivering of your heart. A stabbing pain, a sudden start.”

Both men stared at her, confused. “What are you on about?” Remus asked.

“What I am isn’t important,” Rita said, leaning back with her arms crossed. “What is important is that I know how to find Voldemort and deal with him. He absolutely _reeks_ of Dark Sorcery.”

“How can I help?” Sirius asked.

“By doing what you’re doing. Harry needs a strong male role model in his life.” She shook her head. “That’s sadly, something I can’t give him.” She pointed to him. “But _you_ can. And in the coming weeks and months, as I’m trying to save his life, you’re going to have to be a rock for him.”

“We all want the best for Harry.” Remus offered him. “You have to believe that.”

“I don’t believe that,” Rita said to him. “But I do believe that _you_ all believe that. You want the best for Harry, but none of you, not _one_ knows how to give it to him. If you did, he would be ready for Voldemort. He’d have been able to better hold his own when they met in the graveyard. But because all of you were doing your best to protect him and taking no time to train him, he barely escaped with his life.” She took a deep pull off of her tea. “And Cedric Diggory paid the price for it.”

Sirius wanted desperately to tell Harry everything as soon as he escaped from Azkaban,  but circumstances being what they were, he never had the opportunity. Back there and back then, he had a single purpose. He wanted Peter Pettigrew dead more than anything else. The man was responsible for the deaths of two of his greatest friends. For that, he wanted Pettigrew to suffer.

So, as he saw it, Harry’s readiness fell to those around him. Primarily, it fell to Dumbledore. Harry should have been told. But he wasn’t. The truth was hidden from him, just as Rita had said. Everyone wanted so desperately to protect Harry from Voldemort that they weakened him.

Remus however, was incensed. “Are you insinuating that the Order is responsible for Cedric’s death?”

Rita shrugged. “We’ll never know, will we?”

“You make us sound like monsters.” Remus snapped.

The girl laughed out loud. “You aren’t anything close to a monster, Mr. Lupin. You’d have to be dangerous for that.” She shook her head. “You’re not.”

Remus narrowed her eyes. “I’m more dangerous than I look, girl.”

Rita stared back at him, not at all impressed. “To some people, I’m sure.” She returned. “The point is this, gentlemen. Harry needed information. He’s needed it from the day he reentered the Wizarding world. Information many of you had but never saw fit to share. By keeping him in the dark, you nearly cost him his life.” She held up her hand with three fingers raised. “Three times.” She put her hand down. “Now, I can understand, wanting to protect an eleven-year-old boy.” She narrowed her eyes. “Even after he watched the man that was attacking him die a horrible death.” She shrugged. “But hey, he was a just a little boy, so you needed to protect him right?”

“Alright. You don’t have to keep beating a dead horse.” Remus offered angrily. “Harry should have been told about his lot and he wasn’t. We cocked up.”

“And because all of you fucked up so badly, you’ve given up your right to determine what’s best for him. That falls to me, now.”

“What makes you think-?” Remus asked.

Strangely, it was Sirius that cut him off. “Because she’s his wife.” He said, staring deeply into Rita’s eyes. “She’s more powerful than any of the Order. Perhaps even Dumbledore himself.”

“Harry’s going to die,” Rita said, rising to her feet and finishing her tea. “When he’s an old man with a long gray beard and a smile on his face.” She stared down at the pair of them. “And I’ll annihilate anything…or any _one_ that tries to get in the way of that.” She left the kitchen and returned to the room she shared with her husband.

Sirius and Remus both watched her go. “Harry’s in good hands.” The animagus said, sipping his own tea.

“You can’t possibly trust her,” Remus said to the man.

“Whether _we_ trust her isn’t the issue. Harry trusts her.” Sirius lowered his head. “Lord knows we haven’t exactly given him a reason to trust _us_.”

“You can’t possibly believe-,” Remus began.

“I do believe, Moony. Because she’s right. About all of it. We’ve been crippling Harry by not sharing what we know with him. Whether what Dumbledore thinks about the boy’s connection with Voldemort is true or not, he deserves answers. And for the past four years, no one has given him any. He’s simply been cast back into that hellish excuse for a home and left to suffer.” He looked his friend in the eye. “Given how he’s been treated…would you have a reason to trust anyone?”

Remus sighed and likewise took a drink from his own cup. He didn’t answer the man. Mainly because there was nothing _to_ say.


	6. Chapter 6

Rita was still chuckling when they arrived at the ministry the following morning. Molly Weasley had railed heavily against her accompanying Harry to his trial. She’d calmly, and quite icily, she had to admit, that what Molly Weasley wanted, thought, or felt about _anything_ regarding one Harry Potter was completely and utterly irrelevant.

Harry was hers now. What was best for him was her concern and no one else’s. Everyone in the Order of the Phoenix, of course, balked at this, but it changed nothing. Not for her, certainly not for Harry, and not for them. “You all can continue on, doing as you have been. Not that any of you really _have_ been doing anything aside from watching things happen and being appalled by it. _I_ , on the other hand, will deal with Voldemort in due course.” They all began to speak, but she silenced them all with a gesture. “The how of it isn’t any concern of yours. I’ll see to it. You may go on gathering intelligence, such as it is, and placing people in positions of… _importance_ and I will work on _solving_ the problem and keeping my love safe in the meantime.” With that, the conversation was ended. They bickered and griped like school children not getting their way, but she ignored them. She’d said her piece and considered the matter closed.

She did, however, confirm Molly’s inquiry if the pair were married. That set the large round woman off even further. Rita, for her part, completely ignored her.

As they were taken to the Ministry by Arthur, he seemed very much to take everything in stride. Rita had said that she would handle things. He, at the moment, looked as though he was content to let it rest with her. She’d shown herself more than capable. That was enough for him.

After a rushed morning and a rather stressful trek, at least for Harry, they stood outside the door to Courtroom Ten. “Good luck, you two,” Arthur said, hugging the pair of them. “Be brave, Harry. Don’t worry. The law is on your side.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley.” He said, nodding. He reached out and took Rita’s hand and moved to the door. It creaked open of its own accord.

Seated along a bench high above was the Wizengamot. The ruling body of Wizarding Britain. Harry’s heart immediately leapt into his throat. All fifty of them stared down at him with looks ranging from annoyance to disdain and even disgust. He swallowed in fear. Rita’s hand tightened about his. “Don’t worry.”She offered softly. “I won’t let them do anything to you.” He gave her a nod.

Harry took a moment to look about the room. It seemed more of an arena than a courtroom. Benches lined the walls all the way around. In the center was a very imposing looking chair. Professor Dumbledore stood, looking at Harry plainly. He seemed very cool and collected. Far from how Harry was feeling. Though having Rita in his corner went a long way to ease his tension.

At the girl’s presence, there was quite a bit of murmuring and muttering. Minister Fudge leaned forward and pointed to her. “Who is this child?”

She stepped forward to introduce herself. “Rita Potter, your honor.” She offered in a crisp, confident tone. “I’m an exchange student, late of Salem Witch’s Academy. I’m looking to complete my sixth and seventh years of study at Hogwarts. I’ve heard wonderful things and would like to avail myself, if at all possible.”

“What connection do you have to these proceedings?” Amelia Bones asked as she sat forward in her chair.

Rita clasped Harry’s hand and lifted them both, showing the matching gold rings they wore. “I’m Harry’s wife.” Everyone in the room was shocked. None more so than Dumbledore. Though he kept his own counsel on the matter.

“Harry can’t be married. He’s not old enough. He’s only fifteen.” Fudge snapped.

“I beg to differ,” Rita said, stepping forward. “The law of both Great Britain and the United States recognizes him as an adult. He’s currently an Emancipated Minor. Which means, in layman’s terms, though not eighteen, he is legally permitted to make his own decisions concerning his well-being. And getting married is one of those decisions. So, as you can see, despite his age, the law says he _is_ old enough to be wed.” She held up her hand again. “Case in point.”

Dumbledore turned to Harry. “You didn’t mention this.”

Rita swept over and put herself between the pair. “He didn’t have to. It was none of your business, Professor.” She then turned to Minister Fudge. “I believe we’re here for a trial of some sort, are we not? Should we get on with it?”

“Quite right.” He said, nodding. “Mr. Potter, if you’ll please take a seat.” He pointed to the chair in the middle of the room.

Harry did as he was instructed. Rita immediately knew what the purpose of the chair was. “I don’t think so,” she offered under her breath. She drew upon her own considerable power and ripped the magic essence from the seat asunder. The result was that it now served no more purpose than any other run of the mill chair.

Harry was unaware of any of this as he sat down and scooted back. The chair was large and his feet swung free. He wondered why there was such consternation among the Wizengamot. Dumbledore was likewise shocked. Harry should have been bound in heavy chains as soon as he sat down. Yet the chair remained just that; a chair.

Harry heard the words ‘accidental magic’ thrown about quite liberally, but didn’t understand what they were referring to.

Rita, on the other hand, saw how skittish and suddenly panicked the Wizengamot was and decided that she was going to have herself a little fun. But she would be nice and pick her moments.

Nervously, Fudge began shuffling his notes. “Yes,” he said in an effort to compose himself. “Well, then. So. The charges. Yes.” He cleared his throat. He began introducing the individuals on the bench about him. Not everyone was named, but a few of them stood out. Most noticeably was the short woman with the wide, slit-like mouth like that of a toad named Umbridge. Fudge then turned back to Harry. “You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?” He said, doing his best to glare at Harry over the top of his parchment.

Harry shook his head. “No, sir. No longer. I’ve recently had a change of address.” He flicked his eyes to Dumbledore who looked at him out of the corner of his own.

“Really?” Fudge asked him, sharply. “And what would this new address be, for the record?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rita said, to the man. “Move on.”

“Excuse me.” Dolores Umbridge said, her tone sickeningly sweet. “For our records we need-,”

“No,” Rita said, shaking her head. “You don’t. He’s not going to tell you, so move on.”

“Harry needs-,” She tried to press.

“I said _move on_!” Rita shouted. Umbridge’s mouth snapped shut and she sat back in her chair, against her will. She looked to Minister Fudge. “He’s not telling you his new address.”

Fudge looked at her and sighed, knowing he wouldn’t get the information. “Very well.” He again shuffled his papers. “You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?” He asked the boy.

“Yes, but-,” Harry began to explain.

Fudge interrupted him. “And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?” said Fudge.

“Don’t do that again,” Rita said, glaring at Fudge.

“Excuse me?” Fudge asked, his brows furled.

“Don’t interrupt him again. You asked him a question. Give him a chance to answer.”

“The circumstances do not matter. He’s an underage-,” this from Amelia Bones.

“Alright,” Rita said, cutting her off. Anger tightened her voice. “I’m done with this.” She looked to Harry. “We’re done with this shit.”

“Need I remind you-,” Fudge was furious now.

“Harry Potter is my husband, you fat fuck,” Rita growled, walking toward the bench. “Do you know what that means? Let me tell you.”

“Now see here,” Dolores Umbridge rose to her feet. A loud _whack_ echoed into the courtroom. The squat woman’s face was whipped to the side as a bright red hand print appeared on her flabby cheek, causing her entire face to wobble. She flew backward and fell into her chair.

“No more talking,” Rita said as she continued moving toward him. The large bench suddenly buckled, cracked, and crumbled as if it were being crushed by a giant fist. The members of the Wizengamot were on their feet in an instant, wands free. Rita ignored them as she stopped just before the pile of refuse. “Now you get to listen. As I said, Harry Potter is my husband. That means he is mine. I will not have anyone _fucking_ with him. Not any of you,” She pointed to Dumbledore. “Not him, not anyone. When you sent your first letter to his home, three years ago, it was for magic that Harry didn’t cast. If any of you half-wit, stick-waving, butt-whistlers had the common sense God gave a gardens slug, you would have known that.”

Amelia Bones lifted her hand. It was obvious that she did _not_ want to further irritate the girl.

“Yes?” Rita crossed her arms and addressed her.

“How, how are we to know that Harry did indeed not cast the spell all those years ago?” She shook her head. “There’s no way to tell. He’s the only Wizard in the home. Logic dictates-,”

Rita interrupted her, by pointing to Harry. “Tell them, love.”

“I-It was a house elf named Dobby. He came to my home to, to warn me about something at Hogwarts during my second year. He didn’t want me going back, so he used magic to get me expelled.”

“And you expect us to believe this?” Fudge asked, angrily.

“It doesn’t matter what you believe,” Rita said to him. “Truth is truth, whether it’s believed and accepted or not.”

“What we _believe_ determines whether Harry is allowed back into Hogwarts or not.” Fudge growled. “Your display here hasn’t-,” He stopped as his throat closed up. It felt as if a pair of powerful hands had tightened around his neck. He was slowly lifted from the floor.

“No. You do _not_ decide if Harry goes back to school. None of you do. _I_ decide. He’s been through enough and had enough people telling him what he can or cannot do, what he should or should not know. That ends here, now.” She hadn’t moved a muscle. “Harry is going to be left alone. From now on, if any of you wish to speak with him, you come through me and I will decide if it needs to be brought to his attention.” She met all of their eyes. “Is that understood?” She let Fudge drop to the floor. “A simple _yes_ will do.”

“We don’t answer to you.” Fudge croaked through his sore neck.

Rita narrowed her eyes. A series of angry _cracks_ sounded out. Fudge screamed in pain as his hand was crushed into a bloody pulp. “Don’t you?”

Dolores had seen enough. She shot to her feet and brandished her wand. “ _Diffindo_!” Everyone in the room was completely and utterly terrified…when nothing happened.

Rita laughed out loud. “Did you really think I would allow you to use magic on me?” She shook her head. “No. This trial is over. Harry is going to return to Hogwarts. He’s going to do so free of harassment. Believe me when I tell you that none of you want me coming back here.”

“Excuse me,” Amelia asked, her voice now small with fear. Rita regarded her. “How is it you can do all of this?” She motioned around the room. “This, this should all be impossible.”

“How do you think I’m able to do what I can do, Miss Bones?”

The woman shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Rita nodded. “That’s right. You don’t. Let that little mystery keep you awake at night.” She turned on her heel and motioned her husband to follow her. “Come love. We’re leaving.”

Through the entire trial, Dumbledore had remained silent. Seeing what Rita could do legitimately frightened him. And the fact that she was both devoted to Harry Potter and seemingly lacking anything even approaching a conscience, he had nothing to add. He knew only two things at this moment; Rita Potter was a very, _very_ powerful and dangerous woman, and that Voldemort was on borrowed time. He stepped over and leaned down to speak with her. “They’re going to remember this. They won’t just sit by and let you do as you please.” When she turned to regard him, he raised a hand to forestall her. “Just a word of warning.”

As they approached the door, she turned and looked back at the collected wizards. “You know what, Dumbledore?” She grinned evilly. “You’re absolutely right.”

Harry immediately put his hand on her shoulder. “Please, don’t.” He said, quietly. He hugged her tightly and whispered into her ear. “Not the Dursleys all over again.”

She stared into his eyes. That actually was exactly what she was going to do. But for Harry, she’d come up with something else. “Alright, baby.” She kissed him. “Anything for you.” She looked once again at the Wizengamot. She drew deep, pulling on her considerable stores of magic. The power flooded out and reached into each of the witches and wizards’ minds. Fifty voices suddenly cried out in white-hot agony. Then, as a collective, the Wizengamot fell to the floor or into their respective seats, out cold.

“What did you do?” Dumbledore asked her, terrified.

“Just a little mental tinkering.” She pulled her husband in and kissed him. “Every time any of them hears the name Harry Potter, they’ll immediately forget and wonder who the hell people are talking about.”

Dumbledore stared at her long and hard. “Why didn’t you just do that on the outset?”

Rita smiled. “Because despite what he might say to you and everyone else,” She looked Harry in the eye. “My baby likes it when I show off.” Harry bit his lip and blushed, but nodded.

“Very well.  Let’s go.” Dumbledore gave one last look at the unconscious wizards. “Heaven help us all.”

Rita laughed as she took Harry’s hand and left the courtroom. “Yeah, pretty sure he stopped listening quite some time ago.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Harry breathed heavily as he moved rhythmically. Spiral sat on his lap, grinding against him, moaning sensually. Two of her strong arms wrapped about her husband. Two more rested on the bed, while the remaining hands threaded into his thick dark hair and pressed his face between her breasts.

It had been two weeks since his trial. Each and every night they’d taken to each other thus. She absolutely _loved_ the way he felt. He was a fast learner, her young wizard. Harry’s tongue was pure magic and could bring her to climax in moments. He could play her body like a fine instrument. And such beautiful music she would make for him.

She could feel him getting close. She, herself, was near as well. “Hold on for a few more seconds, baby.” She said to him. Her eyes closed as he shoved into her again and again.

Harry said nothing. He tried desperately to fend off the orgasm that was building within him. His arms tightened as he fought.

Spiral pulled his head back and leaned down, plundering his mouth with her tongue. The pair kissed deeply and passionately. She drew him back and rested her forehead against his. Her long, thick silver hair, matted with sweat, hung about her face, resting on her porcelain skin. “Now.” She said, her voice barely a whisper.

Harry needed no further prompting. He drove into her one final time and released within her quivering sex. He let out a groaning grunt as he did so.

Spiral buried her face in his shoulder, riding the sensation for all it was worth. The pair stayed as they were, trembling against each other, enjoying the feel of one another.

“I love you.” Harry offered after several seconds. He looked into her eyes. She was so very beautiful to him.

She returned his gaze and gave him a soft, romantic smile. “I love you, too Harry.” She again leaned down and kissed him fiercely. “I’ll never let anyone take you from me.” She shook her head. “Never.”

“I am sorry you have to hide what you are.” He said, running his hands up and down her muscular back. “I vastly prefer this to the disguise you are forced to wear.”

She continued to stare at him. She felt an appreciative sob work its way up her throat. Ever since Mojo had turned her into this… _thing_ , she’d been enraged. In her old life, she was a good looking woman that garnered quite a bit of interest from suitors aplenty. As she was now? She was universally hated and feared. Granted, most of that was of her own making but rarely did anyone show anything aside terror. To see the look of love in Harry’s eyes was one of the main reasons she’d chosen to stay with him.

Harry reached up and gently caressed the tears from Spiral’s eyes. He said nothing. He just gave her a warm smile. His body immediately shuddered when the silver-haired woman clenched around him. He was immediately erect.

Spiral began her sexual gyrations anew. “I’ll never let you go, Harry.” She said, her voice soft.

“Nor will I.” He returned. He was a touch sore but at the moment, he really didn’t have a single damn to give. He reached down and gripped her pert bottom and gave a firm squeeze.

The pair of lovers finally collapsed onto the bed, soaked with sweat. Spiral reveled in the light trembles still working their way through her long tall frame. Harry, for his part, lie beside her, his uneven and heavy breathing a testament to his effort.

She rolled over and rested her head on his shoulder and her arms across his lithe toned stomach. Her leg eased over his. “You’re getting quite good at that.” She offered him.

He gazed lovingly at her. “Well, I have had a very good teacher.” He began twirling her silvery hair around his finger. For several minutes they were content to simply lie there and bask in the afterglow of their rather spirited lovemaking. “As much as I hate to bring it up, school begins again tomorrow.” He again looked at her. “We won’t have any of the same classes.”

She returned his look and shook her head. “That won’t be a problem, love. As long as I am at school with you, everything will be fine.”

He bit his lip and stared at her long and hard. It was obvious that... “You have things you want to ask me.” She said, outright, interrupting his thoughts. 

 _She's entirely too good at that_ , Harry thought. “What are your plans when we get to Hogwarts?” He asked her. “I know you wish to protect me. I’ve seen firsthand the lengths you’re willing to go to. I just…” He sighed heavily. “I have a lot of teachers there I respect. And I’ve got friends there. I don’t want-,”

She loved Harry, she truly did. But if she were to be brutally honest with herself, the boy was incredibly naïve. It was one fault, among many, which Harry himself seemed to accept. It did grate on her at times. Their combined attendance of the prestigious academy was going to be one of those times, she was sure. _A bridge to cross when approached,_ she thought. “I know what I am bothers you, love.” She said, cutting him off. “The way I do business isn’t for everyone, I admit. You have my word that what I do will be no worse than what those who supposedly ‘care for you’,” She made air quotes with two of her hands. “Have done to you.”

Harry wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Aside from being left alone at the Dursleys every summer, he couldn’t really think of anything anyone had done. “What are you talking about?” He asked for clarification.

“Mind games, Harry. Mind games.” Spiral returned. “All of those around you; Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, the rest of the order. Until recently they’ve been talking _for_ you, _about_ you, _at_ you…but none of them have really been talking _to_ you. They’ve been shaping your destiny for you but haven’t _once_ taken the time to actually prepare you for it. You said it yourself, even Professor Snape helped you leave London and get to the states. But did he _once_ explain the danger you were _actually_ in? Have any of them?” She shook her head. “I know what it is you face. Because I’ve seen it before. To some, hell to _most_ , I _am_ what you’re facing. Back in my world, just speaking my name tells me who and where you are.”

Harry nodded. “It’s said that speaking Voldemort’s name tells him the same.”

She shook her head once again. “In my case it was true. In his case, that’s just a rumor he started to put fear into his followers years ago. If you look at the stories of him, there hasn’t been any proof of that. At least not that we've been told.”

Harry stared at her long and hard. “You really aren’t afraid of him, are you?” He asked her.

She shook her head. “No, I’m not. And neither should you be.” She pulled him closer and kissed him lovingly. “Because you have me. And I’ll do everything within my power to see to it that you are allowed to focus on _nothing_ but your education.” She ran hands down his lean back. “You let me take care of everything, baby.”

He swallowed and nodded. “B-but I would like to know what’s going on.”

“Don’t worry, love.” She stroked his cheek with her thumb. “I’ll make sure you know everything you need to.”

Harry stared into her beautiful eyes and was lost. “Okay.” He said, dumbly.

She kissed him again. “Get some rest, baby. You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

Harry nodded and lay his upon the pillow. He was out a moment later. Spiral lay down and was content to stare at him. _You’re mine, Harry Potter. And I’ll be_ damned _if I let anyone take you away from me._ She once again adopted the image of Rita, the young witch and closed her eyes, letting sleep take her. Like Harry, she had a big day ahead of her.

 

Rita kept out of the way as 12 Grimmauld Place bustled with activity. Molly Weasley fussed over all of the children – with the exception of her – and made certain everyone was ready for their day. She couldn’t help but feel the excitement in the air. She offered the obligatory congratulations upon learning that Ron and Hermione becoming Prefects. Ron, more than anyone was absolutely _stunned_ when he received his badge. From her read in the landscape, he wasn’t exactly the poster child for such an assignment.

Harry was a touch melancholy about not being given the honors. She was able to bring him out of it by explaining that he had far, _far_ more important things to think about. He agreed that she was right and took the strong embrace and passionate kiss she offered.

Soon they were on their way to Kings Cross Station. Rita walked hand in hand with Harry down the street. She smiled at him when he looked at her. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. _This is gonna be fun_ , she thought.

She was rather awed with the massive GWR 4900 Class 5972 Olton Hall steam locomotive as it sat sputtering and idling on the tracks. “That’s impressive.” She admitted, indicating the iron juggernaut. “Can’t say as I’ve ever actually seen a steam train _in use_ before.”

“That’s the Hogwarts Express,” Harry offered, proudly. 

She turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “It camouflages it well, what with the huge placard on the front that says ‘Hogwarts Express’.” She said, flatly.

Harry snickered and blushed. “Sorry. It’s just I’ve always thought it was a rather cool train as well.”

She again squeezed his hand, indicating she was joking. “Come on. Let’s go find some seats. She leaned in conspiratorially. “Perhaps we’ll be alone.”

He sighed and shook his head, looking around. “Fat chance of that. As many students as there are this year, the train will be full to bursting.”

She groaned as she followed him into the passenger car. She was sad to see that Harry was right. Nearly every compartment was full of students. Ron and Hermione peeled off, explaining that they were going to the prefect's section of the train. “I don’t think we’ll have to stay there all journey,” said Hermione quickly. “Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time.”

“That’s fine,” said Harry again. “Well, I-I might see you later, then.”

“Yeah, definitely,” said Ron, casting a shifty, anxious look at Harry. “It’s a pain having to go down there, I’d rather — but we have to — I mean, I’m not enjoying it, I’m not Percy,” he finished defiantly.

“I know, Ron.” He hugged his friend. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Ginny followed behind the pair. “This one only has Loony Lovegood in it.” Ginny offered. As the two of them gave her strange looks, she waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, she’s alright.” She pulled the door back. “Hey, Luna. Can we take these seats?”

The blonde girl looked at the group, her eyes glassy. Her hair was long and somewhat unkempt. She had a necklace of bottle corks, drab, earthy clothes, and a wand tucked in behind her ear. She stared at all of them for a few seconds, then simply nodded.  

Rita shrugged and made her way inside, stuffing hers and Harry’s trunks into the overhead compartment.

“Had a good summer, Luna?” Ginny asked, smiling.

The girl nodded. “Yes,” said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harry. “Yes,

it was quite enjoyable, you know. You’re Harry Potter,” she added.

He gave her a grin. “Last time I checked.”

Luna offered him a bright smile. “Do you find yourself having to check often?” She asked him.

“Lot of strangeness going around. One can never be too careful.” Harry responded, earning a snort from Rita.

“And I don’t know who you are,” Luna said to her.

Rita leaned forward and took Luna’s hand, brushing the back with her lips, offering a warm smile. “Rita Wayward. Miss Lovegood, it is a _genuine_ pleasure to meet you.”

The blonde blushed a touch and nodded in return. “Likewise.” She said, softly. She saw Rita bob her eyebrows at her and cocked her head. “Do you like girls?” She asked.

“Oh, I don’t discriminate. A night of passion should know no borders.” Rita returned, sitting back in her seat. Harry snorted but said nothing.

“That’s gross,” Ginny said, crinkling her nose.

Rita looked at her. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, girl. One night with me and you’d never look at a man the same way again.”

Harry turned to look at her with a somewhat hurt expression. He leaned in and quietly whispered. “We’re married, remember?”

She gave him a sinister smile. “I never said I’d leave you out of the equation, love.” She then kissed him passionately. “I’m a very open-minded girl.” She flicked her eyes to Luna. “Look at that hair, those pale blue eyes, and that alabaster skin. Tell me you wouldn’t jump at the chance.”

Harry did as Rita instructed. He ran his eyes over the blonde. She was indeed quite pretty. Nowhere near his wife’s looks but attractive nonetheless. She regarded him with a thoughtful expression. “I suppose I wouldn’t be adverse to it.” He said to his wife.

Rita sat back and closed her eyes, taking Harry’s hand and pulling it over into her lap. She kept half an ear on the conversation and let the day laze by. She cracked one eye open as the food trolley came by. “Don’t go wild on junk food, love,” Rita said as Harry eyed the cart like a hungry wolf. “Have something substantial.”

Harry sighed and groaned, but knew that she was right. He shouldn’t overload on sweets. He ordered himself and her a pair of ham sandwiches on sourdough bread. They were both loaded with swiss cheese, cured ham, lettuce, tomato, and sprouts. He also ordered a pair of orange fizzy drinks, and more than a few pastries. “Would you like anything, Luna? My treat.” He offered.

“Um…” The girl said, looking at the cart for the first time. “A chocolate frog and a pumpkin pasty if that’s alright.” She said. She took the confections and gave Harry a bright, thoughtful smile. “Thank you, Harry.”

“My pleasure.” He said back.

Ginny selected a pumpkin pasty and a lava cake for herself. The group sad quietly and ate. Rita leaned over and kissed Harry. “Thanks, love.” She said to him.

Ginny sighed and shook her head. “You two, I swear. You’re snogging every chance you get.”

“Come now, Ginny,” Rita said as she continued to eat her sandwich. “Green really isn’t your color.”

“What do you-?” The redhead began to ask.

“You don’t have to be ashamed of it,” Rita said. “You’ve more than likely had a crush on Harry for years. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Harry frowned and looked from Ginny to Rita, and back to Ginny. “What are you two on about?”

Ginny moved to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. Rita, however, had no such issue. “Oh, you were unaware, I take it?” She asked him. “Young Ginny here is rather taken with you, I’m fairly certain. Probably has been since she started attending Hogwarts. And rightly so. You are, after all, Harry Potter. You’re ‘The Boy Who Lived’. It only stands to reason that she’d crush on you.”

“Ginny?” Harry asked her, point blank. “Is what she saying true?”

Luna, for her part, stayed silent. She knew that whatever was happening had absolutely _nothing_ to do with her. At least, she was _fairly_ certain it hadn’t. Though she was rather confused by Rita’s outward flirtatiousness. She’d never been flirted with before, but could definitely recognize it when she saw it.

Ginny bit her lip and didn’t look at Harry at all. She simply stared into the depths of her half-eaten Pumpkin Pasty. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” She said, softly.

“Why…why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asked.

She lifted angry eyes to him. “I said it doesn’t matter anymore!” She pointed to his ring finger and then to Rita. “You’re already spoken for, aren’t you?”

Harry was at a loss for words. Rita, again, didn’t have any shortage of things to say. “Just because he has a ring on his finger doesn’t mean he can’t sample the menu.”

Ginny and Harry both looked at her with wide eyes. “I’m not a prude,” Rita said to the pair of them. “I’m a modern girl.” She rested her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I wanna keep him happy. If that means I gotta feed him a little… _ginger_ , then I’m game.” She gave the girl an evil smile. “Just hope you’re as open-minded as I am.”

Before Harry or Ginny could respond, Ron and Hermione came in, dropping onto the seats beside Harry and Ginny respectively. Ron complained about being hungry and snatched a chocolate frog from Harry.

“Later.” Rita mouthed to Ginny before sitting back in her seat.

Hermione went on to outline who was to be Prefects for what house. Again, Rita leaned back and let the conversation go on.

Her eyes were forced open as the cabin door slammed open. She looked to see a blond boy with sharp features staring daggers at Harry. It didn’t take her long to recognize Draco Malfoy from Harry’s description of the boy.

“What?” Harry snapped before Malfoy could say a word. Rita smiled at Harry’s aggression. She gave his hand a squeeze to show her pride.

“Manners, Potter, or I’ll have to give you a detention,” Draco said, grinning like a wolf. “You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, “but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone.” The occupants of the cabin snickered.

Malfoy sneered, obviously angered that he wasn’t being taken seriously. “Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?”

Hermione moved to speak, but Harry cut her off. “Ron is a brave, intelligent, and incredibly thoughtful young man, Draco.” He smirked. “But then you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” He motioned to Crabbe and Goyle. “I mean, you have to have bodyguards everywhere you go. And what good did that do you two years ago, when Hermione near broke your nose. Or five years ago, when Neville near beat both of these two,” He again pointed to the young blond’s entourage. “Into the ground. So no, I don’t mind taking a backseat to Ron Weasley. Not one damn bit.”

Ron looked to his friend with a smile.

Having been fully deflated, Malfoy gave Harry one last dirty look, then left, slamming the door behind him.

“God, he’s such a prat,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “Good show, Harry.” She said, nodding to him.

“Excuse me a minute, love,” Rita said, rising to her feet.

“Please don’t,” Harry said, staring at her. “He’s just-,”

She silenced him with a kiss. “Relax. I’m not going to do anything to him or his cronies. Just need to have a word. I’ll be back in two shakes.” She slid between the groups’ legs and exited the compartment.

Harry sighed and leaned back.

“What’s she gonna do?” Ron asked Harry.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, staring at the closed door. “And that’s what worries me.”

 

Rita made it into the hall and saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle storming down the carriage. They reached the door that led to the next car. She nodded, using her power to secure the door. The three struggled with it as she approached. “Draco Malfoy, is it?” She asked stopping a few feet from them.

The three turned as one to look at her. “Who are you?”

She smiled like a skull and began moving toward them. “No one you wanna know, believe me.”

Crabbe and Goyle both did as they were supposed to, stepping in front of Malfoy. She simply waved her hand. Both boys slammed back harshly against the wall of the corridor and slid bonelessly to the ground. Malfoy looked at each of them with fear in his eyes. “What did you-?”

“Now that we’re alone, I thought we should talk, you and I.” She stopped a few inches from him. She stared down at his narrow face. “Do you know how important you are, Draco? Do you know _exactly_ what you mean to me and Harry?”

“I-,” Draco began.

“Let me tell you,” she said interrupting him. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. What Harry’s destined to do, what I’m honor-bound to do,” She shook her head. “It goes so far beyond you it literally boggles the mind.”

“You don’t-,” He started to say.

Rita’s hand about his throat stifled the rest of his statement. She lifted him off the floor and held him there. “I don’t believe I said you could talk.” She narrowed her eyes. “Where was I? Oh, right. Harry and I have destinies that don’t involve you. Thus you are well beneath our notice.” She pulled him in, staring into his terror-filled eyes. “And believe me, boy. That’s the way you want to keep it.” She again shook her head. “You don’t want me noticing you. _Ever_.” She dropped him to the wood. “Have a nice day.” She turned and made her way back to the cabin her husband and his friends shared. She didn’t give him so much as a parting glance.

Malfoy stared at her and looked to his compatriots. He wasn’t sure what to feel or think.

           


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. First, let me start by saying I, in no way, shape, or form advocate the themes that are covered in this chapter and those that will inevitably follow. That's important to note. This is a work of fiction and fantasy and thus do not include real individuals. 
> 
> WIth that said, I know that a lot of people are NOT going to be happy with this chapter. And that's fine. Not all of my work is for everyone. So I'm warning everyone now, this and future chapters are going to be DARK. 
> 
> If you are not a fan of abuse, mental/emotional/physical manipulation and non-consensual encounters, or easily triggered by such, then I suggest you find another of my many works to enjoy. 
> 
> Spiral is a VILLAINESS. Quite possibly one of the vilest and MOST dangerous of the Marvel Universe. She is sadistic, depraved, perverted, and mentally unbalanced, and as such, she WILL be acting accordingly. I am NOT going to dumb these aspects down, nor will I sugar coat them. She is EVIL. She is SICK. And I am going to write her as thus. 
> 
> So please, no comments on how twisted I've made her. 
> 
> YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
> 
> If you're okay with that, then by all means enjoy.

Her eyes took in the office around her. It was quite spacious but didn’t feel anywhere near as large as it actually was. Trinkets, knick-knacks, and brick-a-brack abounded. It filled every nook and cranny, covered every surface and cluttered the shelves around the room to near bursting. She could feel that quite a few of the novelties were magical in some way. How she couldn’t quite determine.

In the room with her was the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore. He sat behind his large desk, looking distinguished in a wizened grandfatherly sort of way. She didn’t for a moment buy the act. Regardless of how he spoke and carried himself, she knew a powerful spellcaster when she saw one. Granted, he was nowhere near her level but in the current climate, he was to be respected. He was old and in a world filled with relatively dangerous men, women, and creatures. That fact said quite a bit. He gazed at her with friendly eyes. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Rita.” He offered, his tone disarming and charming.

The young blonde gave him a nod and a smile. She sat in the chair before his desk with her long wand in her hand. She was absently twirling it in her fingers, looking very relaxed. She flicked her eyes the room’s other occupant; Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. The tall, raven-haired witch was the very picture of propriety. She was straight-backed and never allowed a moment’s distraction. She gave Rita her full, undivided attention. The girl could tell the woman was appraising her with a critical eye. “Thanks for having me.” Rita offered back to Dumbledore. Given her rather vulgar display of power during Harry’s trial, both she and the Headmaster knew this particular meeting to be superfluous. She knew, more than anything, this little meet and greet was more for his Deputy Headmistress’ benefit.

“And you completed your…fifth year as the Salem Witch’s Academy?” He asked her. He looked over the parchments containing her test scores and grades. “It says you did quite well on your OWL’s.”

“I did. Lot of long nights and hard study.” Rita lied.

“Then why come here?” McGonagall asked. “You could just leave school and do as you wished.”

Rita looked at her, adopting a somewhat indignant look. “A wise man once said ‘Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world’.” At the woman’s rather confused expression she added “Nelson Mandela.”

“Oh. Quite.” McGonagall said, leaving the matter at rest.

“I got everything I wanted out of the Academy and thought this school might offer a chance to enhance my knowledge base,” Rita said, still flipping her wand through her fingers.

“Very well. Quite a respectable desire.” Dumbledore offered. “Now, about your relationship with young Harry…”

“What about it?” She asked, doing her level best not to smile.

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall stared at the girl. There was much they wanted to say but couldn’t. Both knew the boy couldn’t and shouldn’t be distracted from what he had to do. But at the same time, they couldn’t say as much because it would mean having to explain even more to Harry. The boy would immediately become suspicious of exactly _what_ it was he couldn’t be distracted _from_.

“We have a strict no-tolerance policy,” McGonagall said after a moment of silence. “The public displays of affection will be kept to a minimum.”

Rita smiled. “So what you’re saying is no, _snogging in the corridors_ ,” She said the last phrase with a spot-on London accent.

“Quite.” Dumbledore offered, doing his best to hide a smirk. He could see the irritation on his Deputy Headmistress’ face. He rose to his feet and moved over to a shelf. He reached up and pulled down an old dingy felt pointed hat. It appeared to have a wide tear across one side. “Now we need to determine what house you belong in.”

Rita raised an eyebrow as he stepped over to her. He was about to drop the hat on her head when she moved aside. “What are you doing?” She asked him.

“This is the sorting hat. It determines which of the four houses you will be sorted into. It might be a bit more difficult given your age, but it is necessary.” Dumbledore explained.

Harry had told her once upon a time what the four houses were and what qualities made each what they were. Given her past, her personality, and her proclivities, she could easily make a name for herself in any of the houses. She did have her preference, however.

She sat up straight and nodded to him. The room went dark as the hat dropped down to her shoulders. “Oh, my. You’re a complex one, aren’t you?” She heard a gruff cockney accent in her head.

“You’re the hat, I take it?” She mentally asked in return.

“That I am.” He shot back. “My, my, my. Quite the conundrum. Brave and fearless. Definitely qualities of the Gryffindor. Loyal and not afraid to get your hands dirty. Hufflepuff would suit you well. Studious and always on the lookout for new secrets. The hallmark of a Ravenclaw. And quite cunning, ambitious and devious. Slytherin would also be a nice fit for you.” She heard him chuckle. “I can see you already have your own druthers on the subject.”

“Indeed I do.” She said, grinning. “I have what you might call a vested interest.”

“It seems you’ll be attending Slytherin!” The hat belted out into the stillness of the office.

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall looked at each other with worry clearly etched upon their faces. The elder wizard lifted the hat free and stared down at Rita. “So the hat placed you in Slytherin.”

Rita nodded. “I’m dedicated to what I do. I wanna be the best there is at it.” She shook her head. “I don’t care what it takes.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said, nodding. He and his subordinate shared a quick look before he continued. This especially concerned Dumbledore because he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that such a placement had more that likely been Rita's choice. Why, he wasn't sure but it was very, very disconcerting. But for now, he knew there was nothing for it. “Professor McGonagall will give you a tour of the castle and escort you to the Slytherin dorms. You’ll have today to unpack and familiarize with the school. Tomorrow you’ll start your classes in earnest.”

Rita rose to her feet and nodded to him. “Thank you, Headmaster.” She said, before turning on her heel and following the Transfigurations Professor out of Dumbledore’s office. She followed as the witch showed her about. After a few minutes, Rita decided to have a little fun with the woman. “Isn’t a little beneath the Deputy Headmistress to show a student around? Don’t you have Prefects for this sort of thing?”

“It’s not every day we get an exchange student from the Colonies.” McGonagall returned immediately.

 _Smooth_ , Rita thought to herself. “Well, I appreciate your attention. It’s nice to know I warrant such.”

“So how did you and Harry meet?” McGonagall asked.

Rita continued to give her an innocent smile. “Well, you could say that Harry was just the kind of boy I’d been searching for.”

“I’d be loathe not to mention this but Harry is still quite young. And he’s got a lot on his plate, so to speak,” McGonagall said. “He really hasn’t time to devote to a meaningful relationship. With his studies and all.” She quickly added.

“He gives me just as much attention as I require,” Rita responded. “You needn’t fret over Harry. He knows where his priorities lie.” She moved along through the halls and spied Ginny rushing past her. She had noticed while on the train that the youngest of the Weasley clan showed quite a bit of interest in her husband. _Gonna have to do something about that_ , Rita thought.

McGonagall showed her to the dungeon where Slytherin students made their home. “Thank you for showing me around, Professor. It was quite helpful.”

“You’re quite welcome, Rita. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I will. Thank you again.” The girl turned and spoke the password to enter the dorms.

She waited for McGonagall to leave and smiled. _No time like the present_. She drew in her massive power and concentrated. In a quick flash, she appeared in the girls’ bathroom near the door. “Hello, Ginny.” She said to the redhead.

Ginny turned to see Rita and smiled. “Hello, Rita.” She offered brightly. “How do you like Hogwarts?”

Rita slowly walked toward the younger girl. “Oh, I’m getting into the swing of things, I think.” She flicked her wrist, slamming the door of the bathroom shut. “We have to have a rather serious talk, you and I.”

Ginny swallowed. “What, what about?”

“Harry and I are married,” Rita said, lifting her hand to show the girl the bright gold ring. “I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your notice.”

“I-I know. R-Ron told me.” Ginny was a bit unnerved.

“Yet, it hasn’t stopped you lusting after my husband, though has it?” Rita narrowed her eyes. “Undressing him with your eyes every chance you get.” She slowly shook her head. “I don’t approve.”

“I-I’m sorry. I’ve known Harry for years. I’ve always had a crush on him. B-but I’d never try to do anything with him. He’s happy with you. I promise I won’t get in the way of that.”

“Oh, I know you won’t,” Rita said, moving ever closer. “I’m going to make damn sure of that, little girl.”

Ginny backed away from the blonde, fearful. The predatory look in Rita's eyes made her heart quicken in panic. She'd heard tell of the elder girl's magic. She knew what the powerful American could do. Now, she'd found herself somewhere she desperately wished not to be. She had Rita's full attention. “Wh-what do you want?” She bumped into the wall of the girl's lavatory. The cold stone sent a shiver down her spine. “I-I'll scream.”

Rita loomed over the petite redhead. She rested both hands on the masonry on either side of Ginny's head. “Oh, I can guarantee you'll be screaming, beautiful. Five minutes of me between your thighs and you'll scream yourself hoarse.”

“I-,” Ginny swallowed. “I'm not attracted to girls.”

Rita reached out and ran her finger down the Weasley daughter's sweater covered chest. “It's not a requirement for what I want to do with you.”

“But I don't want-,” Ginny was cut off as Rita gripped her shirt and pulled her in against her. The blonde's extremely long sinuous tongue caressed the redhead's lips before pushing them apart to invade the young Gryffindor's mouth. Ginny did her best to shove Rita away, but couldn't hope to match the taller girl's impressive physical power. She could feel Rita's tongue moving deeper and deeper into her mouth and throat. She was absolutely astonished. She was pressed back against the wall. Rita's knee forced Ginny's legs apart and a muscular thigh ground roughly against her apex. The friction began causing Ginny's mind to go blank. She was beginning to lose focus. She was fairly certain she felt a strong hand squeezing her developing breast. She let out a soft moan. Another hand reached down, pulling up the hem of her pleated skirt.

Rita reveled in the results of her labors. Ginny Weasley was as innocent a girl as ever there was. Dominating her so thoroughly was among the greatest of sensations. She slowly pressed two fingers into the girl’s tight untouched channel. Ginny let out a sharp squeaking moan. The sound was muffled by Rita continuing to plunder her mouth. The wetness quickly allowed her to work her hand back and forth, ushering the youngest of the Weasley clan to a mind-numbing climax in short order. She drew back to look at Ginny’s face.

“Rita, I’m…I can’t…” Ginny gripped the girl’s wrist tightly, doing her best to stay her.

Rita shook her head. “You need this. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I was promised a scream.” She leaned in and ran her tongue along the side of the smaller girl’s neck. “And I’m not going to let you go until I get it.” She added a third finger. Ginny’s moans grew in volume. “Scream for me, Red. Show me just how much of a little whore you really are.”

Ginny frowned, doing her best to look defiantly. “I’m n-not a, a-,”

Rita slammed her fingers into Ginny roughly, earning a deep guttural moan. “You’re not, huh?” She lowered her head and bit down firmly on the side of Ginny’s neck, leaving an angry red and purple bruise. “I guess I’m just gonna have to do something about that, aren’t I?” She squeezed in yet another finger.

“That’s too much,” Ginny said clutching at Rita’s hand. Her knees were getting weak. “I can’t stand up.”

“You don’t have to.” Rita’s arm flexed as she took the redhead’s full weight. Her strength was more than sufficient for the task. “Scream for me, Ginny.” She continued to thrust her fingers into the girl, earning loud, lust-filled moans. “I said…” Rita curled her fingers, driving them directly into her young lover’s G-spot. “Scream for me!”

Ginny, at that moment, did _exactly_ as Rita commanded. The climax she experienced rolled through her like a tsunami. Her body shook and shuddered. She felt hot tears slide down her cheeks. Her limbs were heavy and refused to obey her. She went limp in Rita’s arms. She had just enough control to look into the blonde’s eyes. “Y-you…raped me.” She offered with a sob.

Rita brushed an errant lock of red hair from Ginny’s face. “That’s one way to put it.” She smiled at the girl and kissed her passionately. “And I’m not through with you, yet.”

“Wh-what more can you do to me?” Ginny asked fearfully.

Rita dropped to her knees. “You’ll see.” She ignored the fingers threading through her hair and leaned in, pulling the little black panties that Ginny was wearing down her thin pale legs. She ran her tongue over the redhead’s wet folds, earning a shaky squeak. The tension in her hair lessened. She wrapped her powerful arms around Ginny’s thighs and held her close, pushing her tongue deep into the girl’s quivering center.

Ginny sobbed as she moaned. Her mind wanted to wander, to escape the horror of what Rita was doing to her, but her body betrayed her. Though she wanted desperately for the blonde to stop, she couldn’t deny the pleasure that ran through her. She still kept a firm hold on Rita’s thick golden locks but, despite her better judgment, she pushed the girl’s head closer to her apex instead of trying to pull her away. She was being violated against her will…and her physical form was enjoying it. She’d wanted to save herself for marriage. Her mother would expect her to do so. But that was ruined, now. Rita took what she would never have freely given. She clenched her teeth. “I-I hate you,” she managed to say. It was feeble, she knew. But it was all she had.

Rita pulled away for a brief moment. “I know.” She returned before going back to work. Once again, a blinding climax worked it’s way from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. Rita was nothing if not skilled. As Ginny became a trembling, shaking mess, Rita let up. She could taste the girl’s delicious arousal on her lips. “No one moans like that if they’re not enjoying themselves.” She said as she lowered Ginny to the ground.

The redhead lay there staring daggers at the blonde. “I’ll tell Ron and, and Harry. He’ll hate you. He’ll leave you and-,”

Rita reached out and rested her finger on the girl’s forehead. “You’re not going to tell anyone, little Weasley.” She let her power flow into Ginny’s mind. “And you’re gonna remember this for the rest of your life. Every second, every sensation. You’re gonna compare everyone you ever get fucked by again to me.” She shook her head. “And you’re gonna come to the sad realization that no one that gets into that pussy is gonna be as good as I am.” She rose to her feet. “And whenever I want it, you're going to willingly give it up to me. And you're going to hate me for it. But that's the way it goes, bitch. That's what you get for lusting after something you can never have." She lifted Ginny's panties from the floor and dropped them into the girl's lap. "Now get yourself cleaned up. Unless I miss my guess, you’re late for Potions.” She turned and left the bathroom. Ginny lay against the wall in a pool of her own dampness. She looked down at herself, then drew her knees up, rested her arms across them, lowered her head and cried. 

Rita heard the sounds and smiled to herself. "I'm gonna like it here," she said happily. 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Harry was actually quite hungry as he left his class and headed for the great hall. His stomach growled loudly. He started a touch when hands snaked their way around his waist. He could smell the lovely perfume of his beloved Rita. Her chin rested on his shoulder. “Hello, lover,” she purred into his ear.

He stopped and turned to look at her. “Hello, Rita,” He said, happily. He returned her embrace as she leaned down and kissed him furtively.

She reached back and took his hands, sliding them from the small of her back to her bottom. She couldn’t help but inwardly chuckle as the students murmured and commented on the vulgar display of affection. She loved making scenes like this. It was a simple thing but it made her day. She drew back, reveling in the look of contentment on his face. The deep growling of his stomach elicited a chuckle. “My love is hungry.” She took hold of his necktie and turned heading for the great hall. “Let’s get some food into you.” Harry followed along behind her, smiling dopily.

The rest of the students gawked and stared as they saw the gorgeous blonde leading Harry Potter along by the tie like some sort of pet. She stopped at the Gryffindor table and sat Harry down. She then, to everyone’s shock, took a seat right beside him. As he sat facing the table, she faced him, pressing her body against his right side. Her right leg rested in front of him while her left sat in the aisle between the tables. Her robe hung open, revealing the leather knee-high boots she wore and gave a glorious glimpse of her tanned thigh. Her skirt was if one were to be honest, far shorter than was proper. But she didn’t give a shit. Harry liked it and that was all that mattered to her.

“You’re not a Gryffindor,” one of the boys said to her.

She turned to regard him with narrowed eyes. “I fail to see how that’s any concern of yours, boy. Now shut your mouth and eat your food.” She paused a moment. “While you’re still able.” The iciness of her tone caused him to quickly return his attention to his plate.

Harry sighed and looked at her. “Was that really necessary?”

She gave him a pout and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I think so. I wish to dine with you. If that means ruffling a few feathers…” She reached over and plucked a grape from the bowl on the table. She placed it on her tongue. She then pulled him in and slid her tongue into his mouth, depositing the grape. She drew back and smiled as he chewed it up and swallowed with a grin on his face.

“Lucky sod,” Ron said, shaking his head. He looked at Hermione with a sigh. “Wish I had a girl that would do things like that with me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me. I’d rather kiss a house elf.”

“That hurts.” Ron offered, looking down at his food.

Rita snickered. “Wah.” She said, returning her attention to Harry. She flicked her eyes over to see Ginny sitting at the table with her brothers. The girl looked at her and quickly averted her eyes. Rita winked at her. She continued to eat her own meal, on occasion, putting a grape, a small tomato, or some other morsel up to Harry’s lips for him to gobble up.

He personally loved the attention. He enjoyed how playful Rita was. And there was a part of him that truly liked how she flagrantly disregarded the social norms of the school.

“Mrs… _Potter_ ,” Snape droned from behind the pair.

Everyone turned to regard him. Rita stared up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is there a reason you’re bothering us… _Professor_?” She made the title sound almost as an insult.

Something in the way she looked at him, the pure icy _malice_ in her eyes, unnerved him. He swallowed in spite of himself. “It is customary for students to sit with their houses during meals.”

Harry bit his lip and looked at his wife, to the Potions Master, and back. Given what he knew her capable of, he suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for the Professor. There were any number of things she could do were she of a mind to. And a lot of them could end up with Professor Snape no longer among the Hogwarts staff, let alone the living. He was fairly certain that she wouldn’t go that far but… It really all depended on how far Snape was willing to push her before she pushed back. And heaven help him if she did so.

Rita continued to stare at the tall brooding staffer. “I’m sure you have a point to make,” she said, her voice cold. “Make it quickly.”

He recovered quickly and likewise narrowed his eyes at her. “It means you are to move, Mrs. Potter. You can fraternize with Harry after school hours.”

Rita rose to her feet slowly. Snape’s expression was suddenly smug. But Harry watched the display and knew immediately that the good Professor wasn’t getting the outcome he believed. Rita, at her full height, stood nearly eye level with the man. She stepped over the bench and turned to face him full on. Every single person in the great hall looked on. “You know…it’s funny,” she said, slowly grinning like a skull. “It’s funny that you think, in some small way, that you _matter_. That you’re important somehow.” She motioned around to the students and the staff at the high table. “I suppose to some of them, you might be. But to me?” She shook her head. “You’re not. Nor will you ever be. What I choose to do, or not, has nothing to do with you.”

“You will-,” Snape began. He was immediately cut off as he felt incredible pressure about his neck, choking off his ability to speak. He could breathe, but his words quickly failed him.

“I wasn’t done,” she said, sharply. “My _only_ reason for being here is to make Harry happy. Nothing and no one will interfere with that.” She stepped forward. “Least of all a second rate, stick-waving, bottle-clinker with bad hair.” She released the pressure on his throat. “Now go away.”

Snape sneered at her. “Detention. Potions classroom. After classes.” He snarled.

She again grinned malevolently. “Really, Professor? Is being _alone_ with me, in a dark, cold, lonely dungeon what you _really_ want?” She stepped closer to him. “With no… _witnesses_?”

The room had gone deathly silent.

He leaned in, meeting her eyes. “ _Promptly_ after class.”

She began chuckling. Her chuckle turned into laughter, then became a maniacal cackle. Then, as quickly as she began, she stopped and shot her face forward to within a hair’s breadth of his scimitar-like nose. It took all of his self-control not to rear back. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world… _Professor_.” She tapped his nose with her finger. “See ya soon.” She then dropped back to the bench, leaning against Harry.

Snape snarled once again, swept his robes about him and made his way to the high table. He wanted nothing more than to be away from the girl.

The rest of the Gryffindors didn’t know what to make of the display. Harry had secretly loved it. He’d never seen Snape in such a tailspin. Yes, he did somewhat owe the man for helping him get out of the country but as soon as Harry was back in school, it was business as usual. The Potions Master had gone right back to treating him like crap. So to see him taken down a peg was actually quite refreshing.

“You’re in for it, now,” Ron said to Rita. “He was really angry. He’s probably going to make you skin slugs or something.”

She looked at him with a raised brow. “He’d better hope, for his sake, he has me making sandwiches. Because whatever he tries putting in front of me, he’s going to have to eat it.”

Ron and the twins laughed, but Hermione wasn’t laughing. “You should be careful. Professor Snape isn’t someone that should be trifled with. He is a rather powerful wizard.”

Rita nodded. “I’m sure he is.” She then shrugged. “But that doesn’t impress me.” She leaned in and kissed the side of Harry’s neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

Harry chatted away with his friends as Rita sat and listened in. She continued to steal glances at Ginny, who seemed to blush even more when the pair met eyes. As time went on, gone was the anger that the girl seemed to feel for the blonde. It was replaced with something much darker, much more… _depraved_. _She enjoyed it_ , Rita thought to herself. Honestly, she hadn’t really expected it of the innocent little redhead. But as she continued watching the youngest Weasley child, she found herself not necessarily surprised. _It’s always the quiet ones_.

Lunch ended and Rita took Harry’s hand, pulling him off into a side hall. “Where are we going?” Harry asked, curious.

Rita turned and looked over her shoulder, smiling mischievously. “You’ll see.”

“I’m going to be late to Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Harry said, a hint of fear in his voice.

Rita chuckled. “ _Very_ late.” She rounded a corner and pushed open the door of a dusty classroom that had gone long unused. She shoved the door closed and pulled Harry in, kissing him furiously. She reached down and grabbed him through his pants. He was fully erect in an instant. “I want you. Now.” She unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and pulled him free of his silk boxers. She then turned about, pulled her robes to the side and lifted the back of her skirt. Her bare tanned bottom was on grand display to him. “Please, Harry.” She said, softly. “I need you so damn bad.”

Harry needed no prompting. He stepped up behind her, ran his hands over her soft skin and eased himself into her. Rita let out a lustful moan as she felt him enter her. Her channel gripped him tightly. She absolutely _loved_ the way he felt. She closed her eyes and bit her lip as he began moving. Harry had never even contemplated what he was doing at the moment. The excitement of doing this when and where they weren’t supposed to seemed to increase the sensation tenfold.

Rita began moaning louder and louder. Harry thrust in harder, slapping against her ass in a fast, steady rhythm. “Oh, God, Harry…” She cooed. “Cum in me.”

Harry could feel his balls tighten. His climax was coming on quickly. She began trembling and constricting around him. He grunted as he pushed in one final time and released deep within her.

Rita felt the welcome intrusion and shuddered as her own orgasm spread through her. She smiled brightly. She rested there, bent over the desk with her skirt up around her waist. “God, I love you.” She said, her voice heavy.

Harry likewise didn’t move, just enjoying the feeling of warmth about his member. “That was amazing.”

“Yes, it was.” She slowly stood up, offering a soft moan as he slipped from within her. She turned to him and pulled him in, kissing him with all the love and passion she could muster. “Thank you for this, baby. I know it made you nervous.”

He couldn’t help but smile and blush. “It was actually rather exciting.”

She reached down and pulled her panties back up. “It was, wasn’t it?” She straightened his tie, shirt, and robes. “Now you need to get to class. I’ll see you tonight.”

Harry kissed her again before they left the room. She escorted him to his class and headed to Charms class. She slid in and silently took a seat. If Professor Flitwick noticed her tardiness, he showed no outward sign of it.

As she had been instructed, she wound her way down to the Potions classroom at three o’clock sharp. She entered to see Professor Snape sitting at his desk, going over the day's lessons. He looked up at her as she strutted down to the floor. She kept his eyes as he watched her draw nearer. She moved around and leaned against the table in front of his desk and crossed her arms, staring at him. She couldn’t help but smirk. For several seconds, the pair simply maintained eye contact. “Well, you have me here,” she said in amusement. “Ball’s in your court, Professor.”

He leaned back in his desk and likewise crossed his arms. “I don’t know how things worked where you come from-,”

She snorted. “Oh, I can pretty much guarantee that.” She interrupted him.

He frowned. “But in Hogwarts, students are to respect the instruction of the staff.”

She continued to smile. “Tch, see. That’s where we have a problem. I never really was one to follow the rules.”

“That won’t be acceptable here,” Snape responded. “At Hogwarts we expect students to follow the rules.”

She gave him a noncommittal shrug but said nothing.

“That includes you, Mrs. Potter,” Snape growled. He leaned forward. “Just because you and Harry are wed doesn’t give you the right to flout the rules as you see fit.”

She gave him a nod. “You’re right. It isn’t being married to Harry that gives me that right. What gives me the right is that there isn’t anything you or anyone else in this school can do to stop me.”

He couldn’t help but belt out a laugh. “You are quite possibly the most arrogant person I have ever met.”

“Fair assessment,” Rita said, nodding. “But the fact remains.”

“I think you underestimate the wizards in this school.”

She snapped her fingers and held up her hand. Snape was completely and utterly _astounded_ to see her holding his wand. “Do I? My read in the landscape is without this,” she waved it at him. “You’re about as powerful as a high school chemistry teacher.”

He quickly checked himself and glared back at her. “How did you-?”

“Oh, Professor. There’s _a lot_ you don’t know about me. I’m more powerful than you can possibly imagine.” She threw his wand into the air and snapped her fingers again. It quickly became a small fluttering bat. The animal zipped around the room, squeaking and tittering. It banked and raced toward the Potions Master’s face. He lifted his arm to protect his eyes. He started when he felt something bounce harmlessly off his chest. He looked down to see his wand sitting in his lap. “I’m not underestimating you, Professor.” She grinned smugly. “I just don’t _care_.” She rose to her feet. “I’m here for Harry. He’s my _only_ concern. I don’t really _need_ yours or anyone’s permission to do what I do. It’s quite simple. Stay out of my way,” she narrowed her eyes dangerously at him. “And you’ll live to see your twilight years. You interfere with me again?” She shook her head. “And your life is going get _incredibly_ difficult.”

Snape sighed as he lifted his wand and inspected it. “That was quite the impressive display, Mrs. Potter.” He slid it into his robes and again crossed his arms. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re still a student at this school. And if you can’t follow the rules like everyone else, then that becomes a situation that can and will be quickly remedied.”

She sighed and shook her head. “You don’t get it.” She stared intently at him. “I can _make_ you leave me alone.” She drew in her power and bored into his mind.

It was Snape’s turn to smile smugly. He was no stranger to mental attack. He was one of the few wizards that could shrug off the Imperious Curse with little effort. He had to do so time and again. The utter shock on Rita’s face was absolutely wonderful. “My how the tables have turned, _Mrs. Potter_.”

Rita curled her lip in a snarl. _Now_ , she was angry. She growled low in her throat and stormed toward his desk. She gripped the edge with her hand and hurled it to the side. The heavy wood was tossed like it was made of tissue paper to smash into splinters against the wall. As her rage got the better of her, her disguise slipped. Snape suddenly saw not Rita Potter, wife of Harry, exchange student from the Americas, but Spiral, the six-armed cybernetic mutant assassin from beyond the realm. Her icy white eyes flashed in fury. Her sparkling white hair danced about her lean face. He was on his feet in a heartbeat. He quickly reached for his wand, terror speeding his reflexes.

He didn’t make it. A strong vise-like grip snatched his wrist and pulled his arm out wide. Another fist gripped his throat. His other arm was likewise imprisoned. He was lifted from the ground by the tall freakish woman. “Wh-what are you?”

“Angry.” Spiral returned. “Listen to me, _Snape_. I am _not_ going to repeat myself.” The room shook as she spoke. “I am something beyond your feeble understanding, little man. Mine is the power cosmic. Without a shred of magic, I can tear you apart and scatter your bloody remains to the four winds. With what I command I can erase your entire memory from this world. I can tear your very soul from your body and leave you as nothing but a broken, lifeless husk. There are no limits to what I can do to you.” She drew him closer to her. “I offer you one chance – _just one_ – to leave me and my husband alone. The next time you interfere with him _or_ me, I will completely destroy you.” She shook her head. “There will be _nothing_ left of you. Do you understand me?”

He swallowed and continued to stare at her in defiance.

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” She screamed into his face. The room shuddered. The walls cracked with the power in her voice. His head was blasted backward by the force of her words. His ears rang. His head pounded.

“I understand,” he said, his voice small.

She held him aloft a moment longer before tossing him aside. He smacked to the floor and slid, laying still staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily. Rita’s face appeared above him. “Remember what you saw today, Professor. And pray you never see it again.”

With that, she turned and left the classroom, leaving Professor Snape still on the cold stone.

Slowly, Professor Snape…smiled.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione was exhausted. She hefted the pile of books up the stairs and carried them awkwardly to the portrait of The Fat Lady that led to the Gryffindor common room. It was nearly midnight and she was aching for sleep. She once again silently thanked Professor McGonagall for permission to stay in the library after hours.

Filch, of course, groused at the idea. And having taken Hermione, books and all to the Professor’s private quarters for confirmation, grumbled about “bothersome brats” and let her be on her way.

So she shuffled through the hole in the wall and carried her tomes toward the stairs that would lead to her beckoning bed. She was forced to stop however as she heard the low, mewling sounds of someone weeping. The fire in the hearth burned low, giving off only the barest hint of a glow.

Hermione looked toward the large overstuffed sofa and had to squint. “Who’s there?” She asked, setting her books on the table and moving closer.

“Sorry,” Ginny Weasley offered sniffling. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“It’s incredibly late, Ginny. What are you doing up? You should be asleep,” Hermione said, moving to sit beside the girl. She noticed, upon closer inspection that Ginny was incredibly flushed, was sweating, and breathing a touch hard. “Are you alright? Have you taken sick?”

The redhead slowly shook her head. “I-I’m fine,” she said her voice barely a whisper. “I just, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why were you crying?” Hermione asked. She flicked eyes down to the blanket covering the youngest of the Weasley clan. Her brow furled. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn she saw movement. She looked at Ginny’s face once again. The girl was staring at the fire, tears in her eyes and biting her lip. Hermione’s eyes suddenly grew wider. _Is she…? She can’t be. Not_ here _!_ She swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. “Ginny?” The girl became stone still. She turned to look Hermione in the eye. It was obvious she was embarrassed, but she also looked pained. “What are you doing out here?” She lifted a trembling hand and pointed to the blanket.

Ginny sobbed but didn’t answer. Slowly, she pulled the blanket aside. Hermione nearly leapt off the sofa in shock. The redhead’s skirt was hiked up around her waist, her simple cotton panties were down, pooled around one bare foot. She had two fingers between her legs. Even with Hermione looking on, she’d not stopped her ministrations. The girl looked up at Hermione with sad, sorrowful eyes. “I can’t stop it,” she said quietly. “It burns and I can’t stop it. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I…” She closed her eyes and sobbed heavily again. She again looked longingly at Hermione. “Help me, please?”

Hermione was completely at a loss. As she watched the young girl openly trying to pleasure herself in the midst of the common room, she had no idea _how_ to help her. She had never experienced something like this before. Yes, she’d secretly and quietly fumbled herself to a subtle and quick climax while in her bed at night but she had no precedent for, well, _this_. “I don’t,” she shook her head, running her fingers through her thick unruly hair. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Ginny.” She again took her place on the sofa. She loved Ginny like a sister. They were extremely good friends. And Hermione would do anything for her. She did want desperately to help the girl. It was obvious the kind of distress the redhead was in. What she was doing should have brought release, not discomfort. Yet, seeing the look on Ginny’s youthful face…

“I don’t know what she did to me,” Ginny said, crying. “She, she did things.”

Hermione frowned. “Who, Ginny? Who did things to you?”

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her. She wanted more than anything to tell Hermione about her encounter with Harry’s deviant wife. But Rita had employed far more dark and powerful magic than any the young Weasley had ever encountered. Something within her prevented her from telling. “I, I _can’t_ tell you.”

“Yes you can, Ginny. You can tell me anything.” She took the redhead’s free hand. “I’ll never judge you.”

“She, she did something to my mind.” Ginny offered. “She made me not able to tell you.”

“Who did this to you, Ginny?” Hermione asked again. At the girl’s furious shake of the head, the brunette huffed. It was obvious Ginny was in trouble. “Perhaps we should speak to Professor McGonagall. If you were the target of some sort of curse, she-,”

“No!” Ginny snapped. “We can’t tell her. We can’t tell anyone. I don’t want-,” She bit her lip and sat back. “I’ll be fine.” She said, tugging the blanket back over her. “You should go to bed.”

Hermione frowned, not understanding. Just a moment ago, Ginny was begging her for help. Now… “What’s going on, Ginny?”

The girl stared up at her for another heartbeat. She then cast aside the blanket and splayed her legs further apart, giving Hermione a full view of her most intimate area. A light dusting of soft red curls framed her slightly swollen womanhood. She continued to work her fingers in and out. Moisture kissed her hand, causing it to glisten in the firelight.

For her part, Hermione was thunderstruck. She couldn’t help but stare in a sort of morbid fascination. She knew she should be completely disgusted by Ginny’s wanton sexual and exhibitionist behavior. It was as improper as was possible to conceive. But she would be lying to herself if she said it wasn’t a tad bit arousing. She’d always thought Ginny was cute. When she’d first attended Hogwarts, the little redhead was absolutely adorable. In the four years since, she’d grown from the pretty, rosy-cheeked little girl to a rather attractive young woman. Though she was barely fourteen years of age, she had curves and a developing body that was, if she was being honest, looked rather scrumptious. And _that_ thought surprised the hell out of her.

Hermione had never really thought about her sexuality with any seriousness before. She would toss an occasional glance at an attractive boy or girl, but she always dismissed as something mundane. Nothing to be concerned about. She was far too busy to even contemplate a sexual relationship with, well, anyone, male or female.

But now, here, face to face with Ginny’s, for lack of better term, _lady parts_ , she was forced to face her own desires, her own wants. And she found herself suddenly warm and wanting desperately to…

“You can touch me if you want to,” Ginny said, softly.

“H-How do you know I-?” Hermione began.

“Because you wouldn’t still be staring if you weren’t interested, Hermione.” Ginny moved her hand. “Go ahead. I want you to.”

The brunette swallowed and leaned forward, reaching out with a trembling hand. “I’ve never…with anyone.”

Ginny just bit her lip watching with anticipation. She felt Hermione’s warm finger slide down the valley between her swollen lips. “Oohhh,” she said, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.

“It’s hot,” Hermione said, dumbly. Her own center always seemed rather warm when she brought release to herself. But Ginny was downright _scalding_. “You poor girl.” She gave Ginny an apologetic expression. She slowly eased a finger deeper into the girl. “Is this helping?”

Ginny nodded rapidly. “More,” she said, softly. “Harder.”

Hermione, now focused on assisting one of her dearest friends, no longer thought of her own arousal. She knew what she had to do to help Ginny, so that’s what she would do. She withdrew her hand and rose to her feet. She quickly shed her robes and rolled up her sleeves.

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked, weakly.

“If this is what I must do to help you, then I’m going make sure it’s done right.” She took a cushion from one of the chairs and dropped it in front of the sofa. She got to her knees and leaned in closer to Ginny’s sex. “Try and relax. I’ve never done this for anyone else, but I’ll do the best I can, okay?”

Ginny nodded and lay back. She slid her hands under her shirt and began squeezing her still forming breasts beneath her bra. “I trust you, Hermione.”

The elder witch in training eased two fingers deep within Ginny’s moist channel. She almost grimaced at the pounding scorching heat. She was fairly certain that what was happening to the young Weasley wasn’t natural. _Someone_ or _something_ had done this to her. _She said_ ‘she’. She _did things to me_. _Who in blazes is she talking about?_ She thought on this as she continued to move her hand.

Ginny began moaning low and long. Her hips began writhing as Hermione eased her fingers in and out of her trembling center.

Unable to resist any longer, the brunette eased her free hand into her own trousers and began manipulating her pussy. She bit down on her lip hard to keep from crying out. The sight of the redhead squirming in ecstasy on the sofa was among the most beautiful sights she’d ever seen. It surprised her, but at the same time, seemed only natural.

“Harder, Hermione,” Ginny whined.

The young witch did as she was bidden. She added a third finger and began veritably slamming her hand into the girl. Ginny’s petite frame shook with each violent thrust. She had to bite the sleeve of her sweater to keep from screaming.

Hermione could feel the warm flood over her hand. Curiously, she leaned in and gingerly lapped at the moisture. She was treated with a salty, but pleasant profile. She adjusted her fingers and flicked her tongue against Ginny’s swollen clit. The redhead’s back arched as she moaned loudly. She screamed into the knit of her shirt that she was close. Emboldened now, Hermione sucked the engorged jewel into her mouth, adding a little teeth as she pounded her fist in and out.

Ginny’s body bucked and hopped off of the couch cushions. Tears flowed down her cheeks. _Damn you for doing this to me, Rita!_ She cursed the blonde. _And thank you_ , she added. The sensation she was feeling was beyond anything she’d thought she would experience.

Hermione felt the moment Ginny’s climax rolled through her. She quickened the pace on her own clit and enjoyed a small orgasm of her own. She drew back, licking her lips as she looked on at the slowly calming ginger girl. Ginny lay there, sucking in huge gasps of air. She still shuddered lightly as the last vestiges of orgasm left her. “Do you feel better?”

Ginny nodded, looking into Hermione’s eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice filled with embarrassed emotion. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Hermione nodded and rose to her feet. She took the blanket and gently lay it over her. “If, um, if you need help again…”

Ginny nodded, looking away. “I’ll try not to disturb you with-,”

Hermione leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Ginny’s lips to shush her. “If you need help again,” she smiled. “Don’t hesitate to ask, alright?”

“You…you’re not upset?” Ginny asked her. “You don’t think me a deviant?”

Hermione shook her head. “Of course, not. It’s obvious you weren’t in your right mind, Ginny. I may not know why you can’t tell me who did this to you, but I will find out. Until then, I’ll do my best to help you through it. And together we’ll find a way to stop it.”

Ginny bit her lip a moment. “What if…?” She swallowed and buried her face in her hands.

Hermione again sat on the sofa. “What if…what?” She asked.

Ginny looked at her through puffy red eyes. “What if I don’t _want_ it to stop?”

 _That_ surprised the redhead. “You,” she stared into Ginny’s green eyes. “You really mean that. You _enjoyed_   this.”

Ginny nodded. “I didn’t think I would. I didn’t _want_ to. But your hands, Hermione. Your tongue. You’re so beautiful I,” she began crying again. “I can’t think of anything else. And what’s worse is that I don’t want to.” She threw herself forward and grabbed the elder witch about the waist, burying her face between Hermione’s pert breasts. “I love the way it feels, the feel of you inside me was, it was magical.” She looked up at the girl. “Please tell me you won’t change it. Tell me you won’t take this away from me.”

Hermione wasn’t sure what to say. It was obvious that no one should feel like this, not of their own volition. Seemingly overnight Ginny had gone from a cheerful little girl to a sexual miscreant with no explanation. Some sinister force was at work but the redhead didn’t care. She wanted nothing but carnal satisfaction.

What made the situation worse, what really, _really_ made Hermione nearly ill…was that Ginny’s newfound lust…was _intoxicating_. The thought of having Ginny, lusting, fawning, _begging_ to be fucked without mercy made her clench low in places not spoken of in polite company. To have the little redhead at her feet, crying to be pleasured beyond reason was exciting to the dominant witch. She found herself responding before she could think. “If that’s what you really want, Ginny.”

The girl nodded and continued to hold her. “Thank you, Hermione. I’m yours, whenever you want me. Just don’t take away the joy and the pain. I don’t think I can live without it.”

“I promise,” Hermione said, softly. She had no idea where these thoughts were coming from. _It doesn’t matter,_ she heard her own inner voice say. _Because this little bitch is mine, now_. She slowly smiled as she continued to stroke Ginny’s hair possessively. _All mine_.

Ginny sighed, more content than she’d been in a good while. “You should get some sleep, Hermione,” she said looking up at the brown-haired girl. “And thank you.”

Hermione leaned down, kissing the redhead intently. She caressed Ginny’s lips with her tongue. The younger girl parted her lips, giving her further access. Hermione cupped the ginger’s round face, deepening the kiss. For several seconds they held their loving embrace. Finally, Hermione drew back. “Thank you, Ginny, for showing me what I really am.” She kissed her again. “And showing me what I really want.” She straightened up and moved over to gather her books, leaving the redhead spent on the sofa.

Ginny sighed and lay her head back on the sofa, staring once again at the firelight. “Well, now. Wasn’t that a rather… _gratuitous_ display.” She froze in fear when she heard the blondes haunting voice. “That went better than I could have hoped.” The redhead slowly turned to regard her, fear in her eyes. “You are quite the naughty girl, Ginny.” Out of nothing but darkness, Rita appeared, coalescing from the shadows. “You almost gave away our little secret.”

“Y-you raped me,” Ginny said, softly. “You did this to me.”

“Oh, sure. Blame me,” Rita said, moving over to toss another log onto the fire from the stack beside the hearth.

“I-It’s your fault.”

From her kneeling position, the blonde turned to stare at the fire-haired teen. “Is it? My read in the landscape is you’re a fairly accomplished young witch, Ginny. In the bathroom, you _really_ didn’t seem too keen on stopping me. You had plenty of tricks you could have employed,” she grinned evilly. “Didn’t you?”

Ginny stared at the woman. What she remembered of their encounter was scary. But Ginny would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit to it being a small bit exciting. It was never something she would cop to, let alone reveal to anyone else. _But you did reveal that side of yourself, didn’t you?_ She thought. _Hermione knows what you really are, now._ She was partially saddened by the realization. _But would you be this way if_ she _hadn’t forced herself on you?_ “If you hadn’t have taken me, I wouldn’t be this way.” Ginny tried to reason.

Rita chuckled as she rose to her feet. She turned and faced Ginny. “You know what? You’re absolutely right.” She sighed and lowered her head. “What I did to you,” she shook her head. “There’s no excuse. It was,” she drew sadness and regret into her eyes. “It was heartless, Ginny.” She moved over and sat beside the girl. She took the redheads hands in hers. “You said it yourself. You’ve known Harry a long time. I think, like me, you’ve only ever wanted him to be happy. I’m not a nice person, Ginny. Where I’m from I’m, well, I have a reputation as being something of a hard case. Meeting Harry, it changed me. He makes me want to be a better person.”

Ginny could see how sorry Rita was. “Then why did you do those awful things to me?”

“Because I saw how you looked at Harry. While on the train I could ignore it. But when we deboarded, when he believed I wasn’t looking, I saw how he looked at you. He’s my husband, but it seemed he, he still has feelings for you.” She averted her eyes. “And I lost control. I’m sorry, Ginny. What I did to you,” she shook her head. “I have no excuse.”

“I didn’t know, Rita,” Ginny said. “I didn’t know Harry felt anything for me.”

“If you like,” Rita began. “I can help you. This constant lust, I can take it away. I’m powerful enough that I can make you as you were. You’d never again have to think about what happened between us. You’d be just plain old Ginny Weasley again. No longer desiring well, _this_.” She motioned up and down Ginny’s sex-addled form.

Ginny stared long and hard at the elder girl. For several seconds, she didn’t speak. She mulled it over. Yes, what they shared in the bathroom had been terrifying. Rita had dominated her with little regard for romance and desire. But Ginny couldn’t ignore the pleasure she felt in the moment. And now, again, what she and Hermione had done felt absolutely _amazing_.

What frightened her the most, however, was the realization that Rita, while maybe the _catalyst_ for her newly awakened sexual desires…she wasn’t their source. With unspeakable despair, Ginny understood that what she had become had always been there. She was far, _far_ too young to be this way, and yet… “I-,” Ginny bit her lip and slowly shook her head. “I don’t want to change, Rita.” She lowered her head, burying her face in her hands. “I can’t go back to, I can’t be _her_ any longer.”

The blonde smiled. She rose to her feet and pulled her robe free. “I know, Ginny.” The redhead looked up at her in confusion. “Oh, I knew what you were, you little slut.” She removed the panties from beneath her skirt. She then moved closer and towered over the form of the young witch. “I could look deep inside your mind and see just how dark and depraved you desperately wanted to be.” She lifted her leg and rested her high-heeled boot on the arm of the sofa, giving Ginny an unobstructed view of her. “All you needed was a little push.”

Ginny just stared up at Rita’s perfectly trimmed folds. “You had no right to-to-,” she stammered.

“True. I did sort of take liberties, didn’t I?” Rita lowered her lips closer to Ginny’s face. “But then you weren’t really doing much to stop me, were you? If you _really_ wanted free of me, you could have made a greater showing of it.”

Ginny’s center was once again warm and wet. She reached up and dragged a finger along the woman’s swollen pussy. Rita shuddered. Ginny frowned when she pulled her finger back to see it wet and sticky. “What-?”

“You’re in for a rare treat,” Rita said. “Harry fucked me after lunch this afternoon. Emptied his balls right inside me. I’ve been carrying around his cum all day.” She grabbed Ginny’s hair and drew her mound closer to the girl’s mouth. “Clean it up.”

Part of Ginny’s mind reeled at the thought of sucking hours old semen out of the elder girl’s quivering pussy. There was another part, however… she ran her tongue overheated folds. The salty tang excited her. She wrapped her arms around Rita’s thighs, pressed her mouth over the blonde’s channel…and began sucking in earnest.

“Fuck _me_ ,” Rita said, breathlessly. “You are _really_ good at that.”

Ginny, emboldened by Rita’s words, slid her hand around behind the girl, squeezed her bottom then pushed a slender finger into the woman’s ass.

“Shit!” Rita snapped, gripping Ginny’s hair tightly. “Fucking Christ!” She bucked her hips against the redhead’s face. “You dirty little bitch,” she said, her voice heavy.

Ginny continued her oral assault. As she did so, she felt any and all inhibitions fly from her. _So what if I want this? Who is going to stop me?_ She asked herself. Slapped Rita’s butt cheek hard, eliciting a sharp _crack_ into the calmness of the Gryffindor common room. Rita hissed in pain and pleasure. She couldn’t help but smile. The girl’s transformation was beyond anything she could have imagined. Ginny was definitely born again dirty.

With Ginny’s hungry mouth pressed to her quaking vulva and the girl’s finger buried deep in her ass, Rita came with violent fervor. She trembled and shook as the orgasm cascaded through her. “ _Fuuuccckkk mmmmmeeeeee,_ ” she snarled. Ejaculate gushed forth. Ginny eagerly devoured the new flood interspersed with the old. She should have been completely disgusted by it, but she wasn’t.

Rita barely managed to maintain enough control to remain standing. She dropped her leg and stepped back from the redhead, still shivering from the mind-numbing climax. She stared down at the young Weasley girl. Ginny just looked up at her with those bright innocent emerald eyes. She slowly licked her lips. Slowly, she grinned widely. “I fucked _you_ this time.”

Rita chuckled and leaned in, kissing her lightly on the lips. “Yes, you did.” She rose back to her full height and reached her for her panties. Ginny quickly snatched them from the floor and held them away from Rita. “I’m keeping these.”

Rita raised an eyebrow. “A trophy, Ginny?”

The girl got up and tucked the garment into her pocket. “Something like that,” she said as she gathered the blanket up in her arms. “Good night, Rita.” With that, she trotted out of the common room toward the dorms.

The blonde watched her go and smiled. “Good night, Ginny.” She offered before heading for the door. She was quite happy with how things turned out. Ginny was an easy conquest.

But Hermione? That had taken a little more doing. A gentle mental push was needed to get the girl where Rita wanted her to go. But gone there, she did. And it couldn’t have turned out better.

She only had one more target to turn to her whim. It was going to be a bit of an undertaking, but…

 _All in good time,_ she thought with a grin.

It was a fairly long walk to the Slytherin dungeon.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry sighed contentedly. For over a month, now, he’d been back to Hogwarts. And he could tell that the landscape had shifted. His beautiful wife had been manipulating behind the scenes while he, himself, concentrated solely on his studies. He was doing fantastically. Even Hermione was proud of him.

Professor Snape had taken to leaving him alone. Professor Umbridge, the worst Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in existence as far as he was concerned, had taken to completely ignoring his presence. He remembered the reason for this and loved it. He absently twirled his fingers in his wife’s thick blonde hair. Ever since the first night the pair had been together, they’d taken to each other with a fervor. Harry couldn’t help but notice a marked difference in himself. He looked down at his chest. His muscles were far more defined than they previously were. And he had far more confidence than he used to. And it was all thanks to the woman next to him. He regarded her as she lay beside him, her finger tracing a lazy circle on his washboard stomach. She felt him gazing at her and looked up at him.

Both Professors Snape and McGonagall would have conniptions if they knew she and Harry were spending the night together in his Gryffindor dorm. Thanks to a small bit of magic, courtesy of Harry, the pair made love uninterrupted. He knew he should be trying to get some sleep but he was enjoying just spending time with his wife.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Rita offered, softly.

“Hmm?” He asked.

“Lucius Malfoy.” She looked up at him. He frowned as he regarded her.

“What about him?”

“He was there that night, wasn’t he? In the graveyard?” At Harry’s nod, she continued. “He stood by and watched as Voldemort tortured you.” Again, the boy gave an affirming nod. “I think it’s time he paid for it.” She saw Harry open his mouth and she placed a finger against his lips. “He is one of Voldemort’s biggest supporters. He’s also a fair amount of the Dark Lord’s cash flow. So I think it’s time we hit the man where he lives. His finances.”

Harry stared at her long and hard. If he were honest with himself, he knew what she meant when she said he needed to ‘pay’ for what he did to Harry. Rita wanted to kill him. And while Harry didn’t exactly advocate murder, he really couldn’t bring himself to find a reason for her _not_ to do away with the Malfoy patriarch. Given that Lucius was a Death Eater, it would only be his just desserts to be someone else’s victim for a change.

“You know he has deaths on his conscience, Harry. He has blood on his hands. For his master, who knows what he’s done? What he’d be willing to do.”

Harry sighed. “I hear what you’re saying but…”

“He deserves it. You know he does.” She saw the crumbling morals reflected in his eyes. She decided to push a little further. “Look at the happiness in Draco’s eyes when he taunts you about your parents. What did he say to you on the train your first year? Unless you’re a bit politer, you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them either.”

Harry frowned. “Why bring that up?”

“Because any boy that takes _that_ much joy in reminding another child that his parents are dead, doesn’t deserve to have any,” Rita said, her tone belying her anger. And she was _genuinely_ angry at the barb. She was as sinister as they come, but even she wouldn’t be _that_ callous. Strange, but true. “So we should take his parents away from him.”

Harry drew back to glare at her. “I agree that Lucius Malfoy should die for what he’s done but Draco’s mother is innocent. She hasn’t hurt-,”

“I’m not thinking of killing her, Harry.” She leaned up and stared at him. “I was thinking of _taking her_ from Draco.”

Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Draco likes to make fun of you for not having any parents?” Rita held her palm up and conjured an image of the Malfoy family, standing as though posing for a snapshot. “We remove daddy from the picture,” she nodded and Lucius Malfoy’s likeness drifted away, leaving only Draco and his mother. “The we… _convince_ the lady Malfoy that she needs to atone for her husband’s crimes.” She smiled at Harry. She blinked her eyes, sending Draco away like his father. Now, only Narcissa remained. “And perhaps enjoy ourselves in the process.” With one more nod of her head, the Malfoy matriarch was clad in a sheer black negligee, her long blonde hair was down, hanging about her slim shoulders. The black shock hung beside her pale face.

Harry stared at the image. “How do you know what she looks like without clothes?”

Rita chuckled. “Let’s just say I know what I’m looking at when I see it.” She had the woman turn and look at over her shoulder with a coy smile. “Admit it, she’s pretty easy on the eyes. And a woman like that more than likely has a tiger in her tank. Most bitchy types do.”

Harry wanted to be disgusted by what Rita was suggesting. To kill the woman’s husband then sexually seduce her into… There was no mistaking the pure deviance of the plan. It was sick. It was as depraved as was possible to conceive.

And yet…

As he looked at the magically conjured manifestation, he couldn’t deny the truth. Narcissa Malfoy was a very, _very_ good looking woman. “She is pretty,” he said, smiling.

“And you know for a fact we elder women know what we’re doing.” She dismissed the image and climbed atop her husband. She leaned in and kissed him, beginning their passion anew.

 

After they’d finished another night of carnal activity, Rita returned to her own dorm room. She disrobed and walked naked to the showers to clean herself up. The other girls looked on at her with open mouths and plain disgust. She simply smiled and swaggered on her way.

She quickly cleaned herself up, dressed in a short black pleated skirt that, when she took a long stride, showed the barest hint of her butt. She also sported a black button down shirt and a pair of thigh-high leather boots with a tall four-inch heel. She knew that Harry _loved_ the way her ass looked in heels. She tossed her robes on over the top as to not have to listen to any of the teachers complain about ‘improper attire’. She trotted down to the common room and looked about. “Has anyone seen Draco? I’d like to talk to him.”

“I can bet he doesn’t wanna talk to you.” One of the girls said to her.

Rita looked at her. “Slap yourself.” She commanded. The girl’s right hand cracked harshly against her cheek, leaving a vicious red welt. Tears quickly formed in the girl’s eyes as she cupped her pain-wracked skin. She stared at Rita in complete shock. “Now go away,” Rita growled.

“He’s in the great hall, having breakfast with Crabbe and Goyle.” Another girl said, her arm around the now injured girls’ shoulders. “What that necessary?” She asked.

“Necessary? No. Funny as hell? Absolutely,” Rita said before leaving the dungeon. She sauntered through the school, ignoring most students as she made her way. She entered the great hall to see the young blonde wizard sitting with his housemates. She sidled over and stood behind him. She eased her hands down onto his shoulders. She leaned down, grinning as she felt him stiffen. “Good morning, Draco,” she whispered into his ear.

“Wh-what do you want?” He asked, his voice trembling.

“I was just curious…where exactly are your parents right now?” Rita delved into his mind and easily drew the information from him, knowing full well he would never just tell her.

“Why should I tell you?” He snarled, turning to look up at her.

She smiled and shook her head. “There’s absolutely no reason you should. Nor would I expect it.” She stood and patted his shoulder. “Enjoy your breakfast. I suggest the pork sausage. From what I hear, the house elves smoke it over applewood.” She moved away, heading toward the Gryffindor table, leaving Draco and his cohorts to stare at her in puzzlement.

“What was that all about?” Pansy Parkinson asked.

“I don’t know,” Draco said, shaking his head. “She’s just peculiar.”

“I can’t believe she’s in our house,” Pansy offered up. “She’s no Slytherin.”

Draco bit his lip as he watched her walk away. He remembered her vulgar display of power on the train. From what he saw of the girl…she was more Slytherin than any of them.

Rita, having gotten what she needed from the boy, slid in beside Harry as he took his seat. She looked over and winked at Ginny, who blushed and looked away. Hermione was seated beside the petite redhead and leaned in, showing the girl something on her hand. Ginny looked concerned but kept the conversation between the pair of them.

“So…” Rita turned to Harry, ignoring the two girls and rested her chin on his shoulder. “I was thinking we could put our little plan into action after classes. I can take care of transportation.”

Harry looked at her as he stuffed a piece of biscuit in his mouth. “I’m not going to lie, I’m still a bit nervous with it all.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s not going to be that difficult.” She kissed him quickly on the lips. “And you’re going to _love_ the look on his face when he finds out what we did to good old mommy dearest.”

Harry had to admit, Malfoy was going to be beside himself when he learned about it all. As before, there was a part of him that found what Rita and he planned to do to be completely despicable. Having no parents of his own was a horrible feeling. It was a feeling that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone. But with that said, were the situations reversed, Harry also wouldn’t rub said lack into a child’s face. Sympathize, even pity such a child, sure. But never antagonize or tease over it. Much less use it as a _threat_.

It was that realization and that understanding that was prompting both him and Rita into taking Narcissa away from him. And yes, the young, hormone-driven teenager in him was chomping at the bit to see what lady Malfoy could accomplish in a more… _intimate_ setting.

“You should tell someone, Hermione.” Ginny suddenly piped up. “I’m serious.”

“I _did_.” The brunette responded, her tone sharp. “For all of the good, it did me. And I’m not the only one she’s doing it to.”

Rita couldn’t care less about what the girl was prattling on about but Harry perked up. “What’s going on, Hermione?”

“It’s Professor Umbridge. She’s, she’s just _mean_. She cruel.” She held out her hand for Harry to see. The back of it was littered with scratches and cuts. He frowned. “What happened?”

“She has a lot of the muggle-born students, she singles us out you know, she has us all writing sentences with this, this _torture_ quill of hers. It doesn’t use ink. Every time you write a word, it cuts it into the back of your hand.” Hermione sighed and looked down at her hand. “I went to Professor McGonagall with it. She said she’ll take care of it but it’s been days now and Umbridge hasn’t stopped.”

“That’s awful,” Harry said.

“Woman needs to be thrown into the Forbidden Forest and let the Acromantulas have her,” Ron said, pushing his food about on his plate.

Harry turned to Rita. She sighed and leaned forward, looking at Hermione’s hand. Thanks to her little display at the Ministry during Harry’s trial, Umbridge didn’t pester the boy at all. So she paid the woman no specific attention. She even respected the squat little toad for her ingenuity. A quill that wrote in blood and scarred the author was genius. But, Harry liked Hermione. The two had been friends since his first days at Hogwarts. So, for him, she took an interest. “Not surprising. Umbridge is a Ministry lackey. She has a blank check to do as she pleases from the Minister. Anything she does, he’s gonna sign off on it as her just doing her job.” She sat back down. An idea suddenly struck her. “Why don’t I help you do something about it?”

Hermione looked at her, frowning. “What can we do? She’s a staff member.”

Rita raised an eyebrow. “Um…so?” She asked, not getting the point. “She’s still human.”

“Doubtful,” Ron said taking a bite of sausage.

Rita snorted but continued to speak with Hermione. “Meet me in the Library after classes. We’ll see about putting the fat little bitch in her place.” She turned to Harry. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

Harry just nodded. “I trust you.” He leaned in and kissed her. “Have fun.”

Rita lifted a brow as she leaned back and look at him. “You really mean that?”

He stared deeply into her eyes. Slowly, he nodded. “I trust you not to go too far.”

Rita smiled and again kissed him. “I love you,” she said to him. “And I promise I won’t go overboard.”

Harry nodded. That was enough for him.

 

Rita watched Professor Umbridge with rapt interest as she sat through her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Given that she’d removed any memory of herself from the Wizengamot, Umbridge paid her no mind. She sat quietly copying the text out of the book as per the instructions. The class was quiet as a tomb. Any child that spoke received detention.

She decided that she was going to have a little fun at the poor woman’s expense. As Umbridge paced back and forth up the aisles, Rita made her move. The squat woman walked to the head of the class and turned about. As she did so, it felt as if a strong hand took a firm hold of her large rear end and gave a painful, bruising squeeze. Umbridge nearly jumped out of her skin, shrieking. Her round form jiggled as she danced forward, spinning to glare behind her, angrily.

Many of the children snorted and giggled but did their best to hide it.

“Who did that?” Professor Umbridge snapped, her wand out.

“It was probably Peeves, Professor.” One of the students, a Hufflepuff, offered.

“You!” She pointed her wand at him. “A week’s detention. No talking!”

The student frowned. “But you-,”

“Two weeks!” Umbridge snarled. “I said no _talking_!”

“Jesus Christ,” Rita said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “You seriously gotta _go_.”

“And a week’s detention for you, too,” Umbridge said, looking at her.

Rita raised an eyebrow. “Really?” She snorted and shook her head. “Yeah. That’s gonna happen.”

“Are you disobeying me, young lady?” Umbridge asked her. “If you take issue with detention, I wonder how you’ll like expulsion.”

Rita narrowed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “I wonder how _you’ll_ like being skinned alive, having your innards carved from your belly and stuffed into your mouth,” Rita responded. The children all gasped in shock and horror. She, however, ignored them. “Not well, would be my guess.”

The fat woman paled. “How dare you-,”

“Shut up.” Rita snarled. Umbridge’s mouth immediately closed. “That’s better. Now turn around, sit down and don’t talk for the rest of the class period. We don’t wanna hear you anymore.” The Professor did an about-face, stepped around her desk and took her seat. She stared blankly at the class and didn’t say another word. “Thank fucking god.”

The student that had been given two weeks detention leaned over to her. “Could you really do what you said? Skin her alive and all of that?”

Rita just turned and stared at him, her eyes narrowed. He swallowed and went back to his studies. She continued to stare at Professor Umbridge. Rita actually respected the fact that she ran such a tight ship. The woman was vindictive, yet coated everything in a saccharine sweetness that it was jarring just how cruel she was. She, honestly, like that about the woman.

But that didn’t stop her wanting the woman to suffer. She’d decided to screw with someone that was special to Harry. That, in turn, upset her husband. And she was _not_ okay with that. So she would pay dearly for it.

She left the classroom and continued through the rest of her day. She exited her Transfigurations class, still contemplating what to do about Umbridge when she felt a hand on her chest. She glared at the obstacle when she locked eyes with Luna Lovegood, the _extremely_ pretty young blonde girl from the train. Rita, however, wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone. “What do you want?” She snapped at her.

Luna gave her a disarming smile. If the older girl’s tone bothered her, she showed no sign of it. Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly about the elder girl. “You seemed upset. I thought you might need that.” She then stepped past Rita and made her way into the classroom. Rita watched her go, raising an eyebrow. Luna then stopped and turned back to her. “And thank you for what you’ve done for Harry. He’s so very happy with you. He was really sad at the end of last year. Cedric’s death weighed very heavily on him. It’s nice to see him smiling again. I always enjoyed seeing it.” She gave Rita a wave and went on her way.

She stared after the blonde a moment longer, before she continued off toward the library. She entered to see students studying and lightly chatting with each other. Hermione sat at a table, quietly reading a book. She looked up and smiled as she saw Rita enter. She waved the girl over. As soon as Rita approached, Hermione was on her feet. “I’m so ready to teach that horrible toad a lesson.”

Rita chuckled. She admired the brunette’s eagerness. “And we’re going to, believe me.”

“We shouldn’t talk here,” Hermione said, taking Rita’s hand and leading her off to a secluded section of the library. “This is the wizarding law reference section. No one comes back here.” She offered. She crossed her arms and looked up at Rita. “So what are we going to do?”

Rita leaned against the shelves with her hands behind her head. “I was actually going to leave that up to you. There’s really nothing I _can’t_ do, so whatever your twisted little mind can come up with is alright with me.” She snorted. “Ron’s idea of having her walk into the Forbidden Forest has merit.”

Hermione was now deep in thought. “No. Too quick.”

 _Damn_ , Rita thought. _Girl’s got a mean streak_. “What are your thoughts?”

“It’s a shame we couldn’t give her a taste of her own medicine.”

“What do you mean?” Rita asked.

“Well…” Hermione looked down at her hand. “The quill she makes us use. It’s a shame we can’t, I don’t know, reverse it somehow. Have it carve what we write into _her_ skin instead of ours.”

Rita grinned widely. “Miss Granger, I like the way you think.”

“You can do that?” She looked at Rita with wide eyes.

“Oh yeah. I can do that.” Rita bit her lip a moment, staring at the younger girl. “Can you keep a secret?”

Hermione frowned and nodded. “I’ve had to before.”

“Keep in mind, I can _make_ you. But I’d like to think I can trust you.” Rita stared deep into her eyes. “Can I?”

“Of course.”

“Only two other people in this school have seen what I’m about to show you.” Rita looked about and shook her head. “Not here.” She offered her hand to Hermione. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” The girl asked, tentatively taking her hand.

“Somewhere far, _far_ more private.” Rita smiled at her. “You ready?” Hermione gave her a nod. In a flash, the pair were gone. To Hermione, it was as if someone shined a bright light in her eyes. In a heartbeat, her vision began to clear. She looked around, stunned. They stood atop what looked to be a huge stone parapet overlooking a massive sprawling city.

“Where are we?” Hermione asked, staring out at the vista.

“Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur, India. Good a place as any to show you what I wanted to.”

Hermione turned to look at her. “What did you wanna show me?”

“You’re sure I can trust you?” Rita asked her. “Because I like you, Hermione. You’re a girl after my own heart. You’ve been a true friend to my husband and that means a lot to me.”

“Of course you can trust me, Rita.” Hermione took the girls’ hands. “You make Harry so happy. I’ve always been afraid that he’d never truly _be_ happy again. Especially after Cedric died. That night in the graveyard, he…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I couldn’t help him. I wanted to. I _hated_ that I was so helpless.” She again looked at the girl. “But I’ll never betray any secret you wish to share with me. I’ll take it to my grave. You have my word.”

Rita nodded. She believed the young witch. “Harry knows this already. I’m not exactly what I appear to be.” She slowly dropped her disguise, becoming Spiral. Hermione’s eyes grew several times wider. “This is what I really am.”

Hermione was beside herself. She took in everything about the bizarre woman. She reached out and ran her fingers over the woman’s metal arms. “What, what are you?”

Spiral chuckled. “I’m… _complicated_.”

“No,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “You’re _magnificent_.”

“Now you know.”

“I’ll never tell anyone, I promise,” Hermione said, smiling up at the woman. “Thank you for trusting me enough to show me this.”

Spiral stepped in and wrapped all six of her arms about the petite brunette. “What’s say we go and teach Miss Umbridge that richly deserved lesson?”

Hermione returned the embrace. “I think that sounds like a capital idea.”

Spiral leaned down and captured Hermione’s lips in hers. The young witch parted her lips, allowing the alien sorceress’ tongue to slip into her mouth and caress her own. She closed her eyes and moaned at the sensual contact. She was completely oblivious to the change in scenery. Though in the back of her mind, she was aware of the fact that she no longer had six strong hands upon her body, but two. And those hands were kneading her bottom with authority.

The pair parted. Rita stared at Hermione as the girl stood with her eyes closed, breathing through slightly parted lips. Slowly, she opened her eyes to look at Rita. “Huh?”

“You ready to do this?” Rita asked her.

“Yes,” Hermione said, nodding. “I’m going to enjoy this.” She followed Rita out of the library and to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Detention was already in full swing. Students sat at their desks, hissing, and cursing in pain.

And Umbridge sat at her own, sipping tea and smiling sweetly. “You’re late.” She said to the pair as they entered.

“No. I’d say we’re right on time,” Rita said, snapping her fingers. Everyone in the room froze in place. “Hermione? If you’d do me the service of gathering up everyone’s quill, please?”

The girl quickly trotted around the room, pulling the pens from the children’s hands. Rita, meanwhile, stepped up and tapped Umbridge’s forehead. “Just going to make a little change.” She drew upon her considerable magic. “Ah, there we go.”

“Here you are,” Hermione said, handing her the bundle. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”

Rita chuckled and placed the pens out in a line on the desk. “Now to do a little modification.” She touched each of the quills in turn. “Whenever a student uses it, it’s going to write as it would normally. But it’ll be her blood it’s using instead of theirs. Of course, _she’s_ going to keep seeing the children whimpering and crying. But it’ll just be an illusion.” She nodded and stepped back. “Go ahead and hand these back out.” The girl was grinning happily as she placed the pens back into the students’ hands. “They won’t affect her right away. When she’s alone, in her bed at night, she’ll feel the effects of the quill. Over the course of the night, she’ll be carved up by what the children were forced to write.”

Hermione giggled happily. “It’s all she deserves.” She nodded as gave the last of them their quill. “There we are.”

“Time to go,” Rita said, moving to the door. “You staying or going?”

“I _do_ have detention,” Hermione said. “So I’ll stay.” She gave Rita a hug. “Thank you for this. And for sharing your truth with me. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“It was my pleasure.” Rita tapped her on the chin. “See you around, kid.” She turned and left the room.

“Please come to the front, Miss Granger,” Umbridge said, suddenly. She held up a quill. “And get your pen.” She grinned with sinister glee. “You’ve sentences to write.”

“Coming, Professor.” Hermione offered with her own smile.

 

           

 


	12. Chapter 12

Harry and Rita appeared a few yards from the rear of Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England. They looked up at the gothic looking mansion. “Well, that’s fancy,” Rita said, nodding her approval. “Gotta say this about the Malfoy’s, they definitely have _style_.”

Harry was likewise impressed. “It’s _huge_.”

Rita grinned, turned, pulled him in and kissed him. “Yeah, but size isn’t everything.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her as she drew back. “Funny.”

She chuckled. “I try.” She returned her gaze to the house and concentrated. “I thought so. The house is warded to the nines.”

“Can we get in?” Harry asked her.

She looked at him with an expression that said ‘Really?’ She began dancing, weaving her hands in an intricate, fluid fashion. Harry was enraptured as she called upon her stronger sorcery. He absolutely _loved_ watching her dance. Granted, he would rather she didn’t have to hide what she was but it was a necessary precaution. In seconds, he saw a bright blue wave roll over the house. Rita ceased her movement and nodded. “There we go. No more wards.”

“You’re amazing,” Harry said, once again kissing her.

“I know. Come on.” She led him to the back of the house. She ran her hand over the pair of large French double doors and pulled them open. She was overjoyed that Harry could be quiet as a mouse. It wasn’t necessarily surprising, given that his Aunt and Uncle demanded that he move through their house soundlessly. She wasn’t the least bit sorry for what she did to the horrible couple. She would have preferred to end them all on a more permanent basis but Harry had voiced protest, so she had shown considerable restraint. She had to admit, it _was_ satisfying to hear Vernon beating his wife and son into a coma with a golf club. _Sometimes you have to take joy in the little things_ , she thought to herself.

She and Harry both crept through the house, keeping a watchful eye out for Lucius Malfoy’s two large hounds. She’d learned a lot from her quick jaunt through Draco’s mind. She knew exactly where both Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy would be this time of night.

She’d explained her plan to Harry. He found it to be rather twisted but felt it somehow fitting. The look on Lucius’ face was going to worth any misgivings he might have once had.

As he followed behind his wife, he couldn’t help but think about how much he’d changed. When he first attended Hogwarts, he was as naïve as they came. He knew nothing about the wizarding world or the people within it. He didn’t know about Voldemort, his destiny, why he was special, nothing. He was completely oblivious.

And yet, through nothing but luck, and the help of his friends, he’d managed to best the Dark Lord at just eleven years old. A year later, he fought and killed a basilisk while blind, saving Ron’s little sister. He’d fended off Dementors with a spell he was nowhere near ready for. And he was forced to watch as one of his schoolmates was murdered right before his eyes.

And still, no one was willing to tell him _anything_. He was constantly being thrust into horribly dangerous situations with no preparation and even less regard. He tried to maintain his positivity, he really did.

But finally, he snapped. After watching Cedric die and being tortured by Voldemort’s own hand, he’d had enough.

It was only through sheer determination to rid the world of Voldemort, did Harry return. Rita had more to do with it, he knew. She was his strength. She was his ultimate weapon. And yes, initially, he was put off by her willingness to do others harm with no regard for the consequences, but he had recently found himself caring less and less.

She had made a very simple case. If any of them cared about you, they’d have prepared you. It was a sobering reality. And, Harry thought, a very informative one. Yes, she was evil. She was every bit the villain that Voldemort was. But, the difference lie in the fact that, unlike Voldemort, his wife didn’t want to kill innocent people out of sheer petulance. She didn’t kill because it was fun. She killed…for _him_. All of the people she hurt were people that, in some way shape or form, had hurt him.

And he found himself being okay with it. It was startling to realize, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. _I only need her_ , he thought to himself. _And she’ll make sure I’m always taken care of. She loves me. Only a small handful can make such a claim_.

Rita, unaware of Harry’s introspection, continued through the house. She peeked into a large parlor and smiled. “Bingo.” She said, softly. A fire burned low in the hearth. The two large boarhounds lay near the flames, sleeping soundly. She called upon her power and sent it forth. _Let’s just make sure you two don’t wake up for a while_ , she thought to herself.

“Don’t kill them,” Harry protested quickly.

Rita turned and glared at him. “I’m an evil bitch, Harry but I’m not an evil _fucking_ bitch.” She shook her head as she turned back to the room. She finished casting her spell. “Jesus. Not _that_ fucking heartless. I’m just knocking them both out so when the excitement starts, they don’t come at us hellbent for leather.”

Harry nodded. He wasn’t necessarily a fan of huge dogs like those that Lucius kept, but he also didn’t want to see them get hurt. They were completely innocent in the grand scheme of things. They would only do their best to protect their master. They didn’t know how much of an evil and sadistic burke he was.

Rita nodded and moved on from the room. She left the master of the house sitting in the large chair, reading. Lucius was indeed the target but they needed something else first. The true instrument of Harry’s vengeance was located elsewhere in the home. So they continued through the manor, moving up to the large master bedroom that the man shared with his loving wife.

They both stopped at the door. Rita leaned down and listened intently. She smiled and looked at Harry, nodding. “You ready for this?”

He returned her nod, gripping his wand in his hand.

Rita gently turned the handle, easing the door open. It inched open quietly. She leaned her head in, looking over to the large four-poster bed. Narcissa sat in her long silver silk nightgown with her feet crossed and her back against the headboard. Her painted toenails and pale alabaster skin caught the moonlight coming in through the open curtains on the huge double doors that led to the balcony outside. She, too, was engrossed in some book or other, oblivious to the room around her. She couldn’t help but notice that, if anything, she’d undersold the woman’s rather statuesque curves.

She moved fully into the room, allowing Harry to enter behind her. He quickly shut the door.

The motion caught Narcissa’s attention. She turned and narrowed hers at the sight of Rita. Her eyes then widened as she met those of young Harry Potter. “You,” she said, her voice hitching.

Rita immediately snapped her fingers, rendering the elder woman immobile. “Before you decide to do something stupid,” she said. She stepped up and saw Narcissa’s wand sitting on her bedside table. She lifted it and began twirling it in her hand.

“Who are you?”

“You already know who he is, I’m sure,” Rita lifted her hand to show her the golden ring. “I’m Rita. I’m Harry’s blushing bride.”

“Wh-what do you want?” Narcissa asked, moving her eyes back and forth between the pair of them.

“A couple of things, actually.” Rita reached out and poked lady Malfoy’s rather generous breast with her own wand. “You, for one.”

Narcissa frowned. “Me? What-? I have nothing to do with-,”

“You know what your husband is, Mrs. Malfoy.” Rita offered. “You know who he’s loyal to. You may not be stamped ‘Property of Voldemort’ like your husband but you still chew the same cud and shit in the same pen as the rest of the herd.”

Narcissa glowered at the girl. She most certainly did not cotton to being compared to livestock. “When my husband learns of this-,”

“Oh, I imagine he’s going to be quite pissed,” Rita said, grinning. “He’s the other thing we’re here for. He’s going to be dead soon.” Narcissa paled. “And you’re going to be the one that kills him.”

“I would never-,”

“It’s cute. You think you have a choice.” Rita snapped her fingers, allowing Narcissa freedom of movement. She then flipped the woman’s wand around and offered it back to her. “Here you are. You’re going to need it.”

The woman took it and stared at Rita. She was no stranger to dueling. She quickly whipped her wand, issuing a sharp “ _Stupefy_ ,”

But she didn’t even manage to finish the incantation before her wand went flying from her hand. “ _Expelliarmus_!” Harry had shouted in a heartbeat.

Narcissa was stunned at how quick and potent the spell was. She looked at the boy as she gripped her hand. She heard tell of how truly strong Harry Potter was. While she knew nothing of the girl, _his_ legacy was fairly well known. Though he was young, he was very, _very_ powerful. He’d managed spells far beyond his years. Such was showcased as his disarming charm came so fast and so forceful that her hand actually _hurt_. The pair locked eyes.

And, at that moment, Narcissa Malfoy knew true fear. She’d seen eyes like that before. Eyes that carried a cold, icy rage. Eyes that bore into one’s soul. Eyes that belonged to someone that felt they had nothing left to lose.

Yes, she’d seen those eyes before. But only once. And they haunted her still. The eyes… of the Dark Lord. Not the same hue to be sure, but those same qualities.

Though he appeared as nothing more than a child, Harry Potter was anything but. He’d ceased being a child years ago. When he’d been forced to fight for the right to simply _live_. No, he was a boy no longer. She was forced to swallow as Harry stared at her, _daring_ her to move, to act. She saw that he would not hesitate to burn her down. He was obviously _fed up_.

Rita saw the standoff and chuckled. She calmly walked over and lifted the woman’s wand from the floor and strolled back over. “I see you finally understand, Mrs. Malfoy.” She patted Harry’s shoulder. “My hubby here is sick of everyone’s shit. He’s sick of motherfuckers trying to kill him for no goddamn reason. He sick of being used, lied to, manipulated, kept in the dark, and being thrown to the wolves, all by the very people that are supposed to be protecting him.” She stepped forward and lifted a foot, resting it on the bed beside the elder woman.

Narcissa stared intently at Harry. “I-I had nothing to do with the deaths of your parents.”

“Never said you did.” He said back to her.

“Neither did my husband.” She added.

“He was there, Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry said, tightening his grip on his wand. “At the graveyard, that night. He was there. He stood by, watching, _laughing_ as Voldemort tortured me relentlessly.” He stepped forward, his wand still pointing at her. “Tell me, Mrs. Malfoy – _Narcissa_ – what would have me do now, hmm? Because of men like your husband, my parents are dead. Because of men like your husband, I wake screaming in the night, haunted by dreams that no child,” He paused and let out a growling breath “No _one_ should _ever_ have.” He stopped as his wand dug into the flesh of her cheek. “Tell me, _Narcissa_ , what would _you_ do? If you were in my place, here, now, and you had the chance, the freedom, the _rage_ to strike a blow _so devastating_ to a man that took pleasure in watching you scream…would you?”

She knew she had to be careful what she said. One wrong word, one wrong move, and Harry Potter would kill her where she sat. She was fairly certain, at that moment, that he wouldn’t hesitate to loose the killing curse at her, the law be damned. Her life would be forfeit. As would that of her husband and her child. She swallowed and slowly lifted her hand, pushing his wand aside. “I, I can’t imagine how you feel, Harry.”

He clenched his teeth and moved his wand back to her face. “I can remedy that.”

“Please.” She began pleading. “When he first rose to power, yes. Lucius followed him. And yes, it was by choice. There was no Imperius Curse. He wasn’t being forced.” She was crying, now. “But things, they're different now. Voldemort is, he’s beyond control. We are helping him because, because there’s no choice. He’ll hurt Draco if we don’t do as he asks.”

“Draco deserves anything Voldemort would do to him.” Harry snarled. “For all that he’s done to me over the past four and a half years. He deserves everything coming his way.” He turned away from her and looked at Rita. “And so does your husband.” He gave his wife a nod.

“Time to trim the family tree,” Rita said, staring into Narcissa’s eyes. She was none too ginger about her mental intrusion.

Narcissa furrowed her brow as she felt the girl bore into her mind. She could feel things change. Slowly, she could feel herself growing more and more angry at Lucius. Her anger quickly rose to rage, then fury. She didn’t understand where it was coming from and she no longer cared. Soon, she couldn’t even remember a time when she loved him. All she felt in her heart, in her deepest soul for the man…was _hate_. Hate for bringing the Dark Lord into her life. Hate for giving her such a despicable little monster of a son. _Draco_ , she snarled inwardly. _The spitting image of his father_. _No son of mine!_

Rita smiled at her handiwork. “I believe you’re going to need this,” she said, offering the woman her wand. “There’s a man downstairs that I believe needs but a moment of your time.”

“Indeed there is,” Narcissa said, rising from the bed. She looked at Harry. “I am sorry, Harry.” She stepped over and lightly caressed his cheek with her thumb. “I only hope, when I rid this house of the filth,” she leaned down and gave him a deep, loving, passionate kiss. “That I can make it up to you.”

Harry’s knees went weak as he returned it. “Looking forward to it.”

Narcissa turned and swept out of the room with a determined gait. Rita and Harry followed behind. The Malfoy matriarch descended the stairs and strode to the study, where her husband sat, his cane leaning against his chair. He had a book in his lap and a goblet of wine in his hand. He lifted his head and looked at his wife. He smiled at her. “Beloved,” He addressed her. His smile quickly faded as he saw the wand in her hand. “Narcissa, dear?” She lifted it toward him. “What are you-?”

“ _Crucio_!” She shouted. Lucius immediately screamed and fell to the floor as his body was wracked with uncontrollable and unequaled agony.

“ _Accio_ cane!” Harry said, thrusting his wand out. Lucius’ walking stick sailed across the room and smacked into the boy’s open palm. He handed it to Rita. “His wand is in the handle. You have to break it to make sure he can’t use it.”

The girl nodded and removed it. She then snapped it in half, tossing the pieces aside. She went back to watching as Narcissa towered over her husband, unleashing one of the three unforgivable curses upon the man. “You sinister, useless _bastard_ ,” she snarled as she continued to torture him. “I can’t believe I ever loved a sick, sadistic monster like you. I can’t believe I allowed you to put a child in me.”

Lucius couldn’t respond. He could only scream.

Harry watched on with something approaching glee. He remembered all too well the feeling of such a curse. The man that was currently suffering from it watched on as Harry writhed about on the grass, praying for death. Now, it was his turn to watch…and laugh.

“She is _really_ getting into this, isn’t she?” Rita chuckled and crossed her arms. “Think I might have overdone it a bit.”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Overkill is _so_ underrated.”

Narcissa finally stopped torturing her husband. She knelt beside him. “I want you to know, Lucius. I’m done with you.” She pointed to the door of the study. “Do you see them?” Lucius, his body trembling, turned to see what his wife was on about. “Harry Potter and his wife. I’m going to do my best to atone for all of the horror you put that boy through.” She looked back down at him. She took his chin and turned it toward her. “I may even let him put a child in me. A _real_ son. Not some filthy creature _you_ spawned. He’s a _true_ wizard. A wizard that will destroy the Dark Lord, removing his taint from this house and this family. I’ll let him plant his seed and give him a strong, _pure_ child. A child that the Black Family can rebuild upon.” She rose to her feet. “Goodbye… _beloved_.” She pointed the wand at him.

“Narcissa, no…” He pleaded.

“ _Avada Kedavra_!” She let the curse fly. Sickly green energies collided with the white-haired wizard. He fell limply to the floor, his eyes staring unblinking at the ceiling.

She stared down at him, searching for any emotion. All she felt was relief. She turned to Harry, a look of pure sorrow on his face. She walked over to him and pulled him in, holding him tightly. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” she said, her voice cracking. “I wasn’t strong enough to defy the Dark Lord. I, I was a coward.” She then turned to Rita. She offered her hand to the girl. The blonde took it and was pulled in for a warm embrace. “Thank you for giving me the courage to do what was right. For giving me the strength to rid myself of two extremely heavy burdens.”

Rita smiled brightly. “It was my pleasure, Narcissa.”

The elder woman stepped back and looked Harry in the eyes. “Come, love. We have a new dynasty to build.”

Harry nodded and followed her upstairs. Rita moved along behind and grinned like a skull. _Can’t wait to see the look Draco’s face. Especially when he meets his new little half-brother._


	13. Chapter 13

Harry Potter was understandably nervous. He was currently in Malfoy Manor, being led to the master suite of the home by none other than Narcissa Malfoy. The woman sauntered along in front of him, swaying her hips seductively. She cast a coy smile over her shoulder at him.

Rita followed closely behind, very much enjoying the show the woman was putting on. She was doing everything in her power to entice the boy. What made it a little more… _exciting_ to her was that the woman’s husband was lying dead in the parlor. Rita was quite proud of herself.

They moved up the stairs and to the bedroom. Narcissa stepped in and turned, taking Harry’s hands in hers. She smiled at him and turned to Rita. “You are his wife. So the choice is yours. I would very much like to father a child for Harry. While I’m still able to bear children. Will you allow it?”

Rita kicked her shoes off and sat at the foot of the bed, leaning against the post with her knee up and hands resting atop it. “By all means. As long as you don’t mind an audience.”

Narcissa smiled at her. “Not at all. But just so you know, young lady. Once I am done with Harry, you’ll no longer be a spectator.”

“Can’t wait.” Rita motioned between the pair. “Until then, knock yourself out.”

Narcissa nodded and looked back to Harry. “You needn’t be nervous,” she said as she tugged on the bottom of his sweater. “I’ve done this many times.”

For Harry’s part, that was much easier said than done. He was standing face to face with the mother of his worst enemy at Hogwarts. Draco had been a constant irritation over the last four years. He mostly found the young blonde wizard to be a nuisance more than anything else but still. He was going to enjoy his reaction when he learns that Harry slept with his mother.

Narcissa pulled Harry’s shirt off and cast it aside. She couldn’t help but smile at his lean, but muscular physique. _Ah, the advantages of youth_ , she thought happily. She deftly unbuckled his belt and undid the button and fly of his jeans. She dropped to her knees as she slid them down his legs. She then removed his boxers…to see him completely flaccid. She ran her fingernails up and down his legs and looked up at him with a soft, matronly smile. “Is my young lover nervous?”

Harry swallowed and nodded. “This is a rather peculiar situation, Mrs. Malfoy.”

She reached back and gave him tender young buttocks a squeeze, causing him to gasp. “As I said before, Harry. You needn’t be. I’ll make sure you enjoy every moment of this.” She took hold of his member. “And call me Narcissa. I like the way it sounds when you say my name.” She then leaned in and took him into her mouth. Her tongue caressed the head of his penis, rolling gently over every curve. Harry’s eyes slid shut and his head tilted back. His hands settled on Narcissa’s head as she worked him over with her experienced mouth.

Rita looked on with interest. Her own heat was starting to quickly rise. She lifted her skirt and pulled aside the thin black thong she was wearing. She began massaging her clit as she watched the lady Malfoy pleasure her husband. _God, that’s sexy,_ she thought to herself.

Narcissa could feel the boy getting hard. She withdrew him from her mouth, continuing to stroke him with her hand. She took a finger into her mouth, wetting it thoroughly. She then again wrapped her lips about him. She moved her hand around to his bottom. The then began teasing his anus with her finger. She felt him buck a small bit and smiled. She inched her finger into his ass, reveling in the tightness she found there.

Harry moaned loudly and pressed her head to his cock. His testicles flexed as he emptied his load into her mouth. Narcissa kept her lips wrapped around him, drawing in everything he had to offer.

Rita shoved two fingers into her moist pussy as she looked on. The display was amazingly dirty.

Narcissa continued to swallow as she removed her finger from his ass. She then stood and again took his hands. She pulled him over to the bed. She pulled the silk belt from around her waist and pulled the front of her gown open. Harry was finally blessed with the sight of the woman sans clothes. She was tall and still slender, but age was beginning to take its toll. Her thighs were starting to get just a hint of plumpness to them. The blonde curls at the apex of her legs were glistening with moisture. Her stomach only showed the barest whisper of a pooch. Her breasts were large and round. Gravity had started pulling against them but it was a hard-fought battle. Her nipples were plump and standing at full attention. Harry’s mouth was suddenly watering. Narcissa sat down on the bed and lay back, her hands over her head. “I’m all yours, boy. What are you going to do with me?”

Harry looked at Rita. The girl gave him a nod. “Enjoy yourself, baby.” She said, grinning. She then looked to the woman. “I know I would.” Narcissa turned to look at her with an appreciative smile. To Narcissa, Rita was the epitome of teenage boy fantasies. She was young, tight and _strikingly_ beautiful. She was much like Narcissa in her youth. While the elder witch was a tad self-conscious in her advancing years, she knew she was still quite desirable. Enough so that even her demented sister, Bellatrix, had shown, and displayed far more interest than was proper for blood siblings.

Narcissa wasn’t necessarily surprised by the fact. While she admitted that Bellatrix _could_ be attractive if she’d just bathe more often and take proper care of herself, she also knew the woman to be completely and utterly insane. Bellatrix’ devotion to Voldemort was fanatical to point of nigh worship. She’d even heard rumors that the pair had been… _intimate_ after his return from the beyond. Given how hideous he was, the thought made her stomach turn.

And as Narcissa saw the way Rita regarded her with a dangerous predatory avarice, she couldn’t help but feel warm, to feel _wanted_. Lucius always had a smile and a simple embrace but never showed any sexual interest. And, if she were to be honest with herself, neither did she. Lucius was a devoted father, true. But his loyalty to the Dark Lord disgusted her. The fact that her son was walking the same line made her ill. She wanted nothing to do with either of them, now because of it. Many were the nights she’d have to gain her release in private. _No longer_ , she thought happily. _This boy and his eager young bride will see me well attended. And I’ll reward him with a child._

Harry stared down at her for a moment longer, before he fell to his knees beside the bed and leaned in, caressing her wet folds with his tongue. He absolutely _loved_ the way Rita tasted when he pleasured her. It was a scent, a tang that was all her own.

Narcissa, too, was a singular flavor. Hers was a taste that had a subtle sweetness but also of strong spice. It was actually quite pleasant. He was no stranger to this particular arena. Rita had instructed him very well on how to move his tongue, his fingers to properly bring a woman to climax. Given what the woman had just done, he felt she deserved a fantastic evening for her trouble.

For her part, the lady Malfoy leaned back and enjoyed the young wizard’s attentions. She’d had very few lovers take the time to see her properly stimulated. “You’re quite good at that,” she said, her voice heavy. She looked to the side, meeting eyes with Rita. “You’re doing I, _oh, Gods, Harry_ ,” she moaned loudly.

Rita chuckled and nodded. “Boy learns quick.” Rita quickly shed her clothes and slid over, wrapping her lips about Narcissa’s nipple, while taking the other between her thumb and forefinger. The elder blonde began breathing heavily and moaning in earnest. “I’m close,” she said, squirming on the bed. “Oh, Harry, don’t stop.”

Harry had no intention of it. He eased a pair of fingers into Narcissa’s tightening channel. She splayed her legs further apart, welcoming the intrusion. Her moaning turned guttural as she began bucking her hips against his mouth and hand.

“Cum for him, Narcissa. Show him what he does to you,” Rita bit down on the woman’s nipple and squeezed the other. She was careful to not step over the line between pleasure and pain.

The woman’s eyes were closed tightly as she felt the climax building and building. “ _Ooooohhhhh mmmmmyyyyyyy Gooooooddddd!_ ” Narcissa let out as the orgasm finally flowed through her.

Harry smiled as drew back as Narcissa lay on the bed quaking. Rita had returned to her knees and looked down at the woman. She looked to Harry and nodded. “Nice work baby,” She said happily. “Now put it in her while she’s still cumming. It’ll drive her nuts.”

Harry frowned and looked down at Narcissa. The woman met his eyes and nodded, beckoning him forward. He stepped forward slid the tip of his cock over her saturated valley. He then slid deep into her. The feel of her still spasming from her climax was _amazing_.

Narcissa had never felt anything like it. Harry wasn’t overly large, not surprising given his age, but he had _rhythm_. He knew how to move. And that made a world of difference. On the rare occasions when she and Lucius did make love, it was always… _clinical._ It was sterile. There was very little, if any, foreplay. It was tolerable, but it was _nothing_ like this. Rita and Harry both were doing everything in their power to make it enjoyable for her. Her body shook with each thrust. Harry drove into her again and again. She lifted her legs, wrapping them about the boy. She longed to feel him deeper.

Harry seemed to sense what she wanted and leaned forward, pushing more of himself within her. He was grunting with the force. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He stared down into her eyes as he fucked her.

Rita was fingering herself furiously. The wet _smack_ of her fingers mixed with the constant _slap-slap-slap_ of Harry’s balls against Narcissa’s cum-soaked taint to create a truly depraved, yet erotic symphony.

“Give it to me, Harry,” Narcissa said breathlessly. “I want to feel you in me. I want you to give me a child worthwhile.” Tears began to flow. “My husband’s keeper took your parents.” She sobbed and pulled him down, cradling him between her breasts. “I can’t give them back to you. But I _can_ give you a son or daughter that you can be proud of. A child that can bridge the divide between the Black and Potter names.” She moaned again as he continued to drive hard against her. “Please, Harry. Before I’m too old to be of use to you,” she looked into his eyes. “Let me do this for you. Let me make amends.”

Harry leaned down and kissed the elder woman deeply as he pounded into her. He felt his balls clench. He drew nearly all the way out of her, then slammed back in as forcefully as he could. Narcissa screamed his name as he released a monumental load deep inside her. She crushed him to her as her own climax took purchase.

Harry’s penis flared over and over as he pumped her as full as he was able. Rita couldn’t help but cum right along with the pair. Seeing her husband buried to the root within the elder witch just plain did it for her. _God, she looks fucking_ sexy _like that_ , she thought.

For several minutes, Harry was content to remain as he was. Like Narcissa, he spasmed and shuddered as the last vestiges of orgasm left him. They lay still on the bed, breathing heavily. Finally, he withdrew from her. Rita immediately took his place. She took hold of Narcissa’s thighs and lifted her bottom from the bed. “We wanna make sure this sapling takes root, don’t we?” She asked the woman. She concentrated on Narcissa’s stomach a moment. She wanted to make _absolutely_ sure that she and Harry got the child the woman wanted.

Narcissa gave her a weak smile and nodded. “You’re a very lucky woman. He’s _incredible_.”

“He is, isn’t he?” She leaned down and licked Narcissa’s swollen pussy, drawing a lustful moan from the woman. “If Harry’s alright with it, I don’t mind sharing.” She settled in and spread Narcissa’s ass cheeks. “But now, I get to have _my_ fun.”

Harry moved over and sat where his wife had been. He was extremely satisfied with how the evening had turned out. Any trepidation he’d felt had melted away amid the warmth of Narcissa’s experienced sex. Now, he was content to watch as his wife buried her tongue deep into the Malfoy matriarch’s shapely bottom. Harry was intrigued as he saw Narcissa’s vulva pulsate as Rita licked her.

Sweat matted the woman’s hair to her face. Her large breasts lolled about on her chest. She opened her eyes and turned to look at him. Her mouth was agape as she felt yet another climax building. She reached up and took hold of her breasts and held them upright. She looked to Harry, to her swollen nipples and back. She then kissed at him.

Harry knew what she wanted. He got to his stomach and latched his lips around one of her breasts, sucking gently. Narcissa rested her hand upon his head, again moaning. Her throat was beginning to hurt with all the vocalization.

Rita replaced her tongue with a pair of fingers. The woman’s ass was drenched. Her fingers slid in quite easily. She gingerly added a third. Narcissa cried out in pain and pleasure. Rita worked her hand back and forth, smiling as the friction slowly lessened. She knew this was an entirely new sensation for the aged sorceress. She was fairly certain that finger-banging his wife’s ass wasn’t among Lucius Malfoy’s repertoire. She pulled her fingers free, tucked her thumb in and pushed her slender hand fully into the woman’s ass.

Narcissa shook her head back and forth, her breathing quickening. It was almost too much for her. She gripped her own legs and pulled, opening herself wider for the younger witch. Rita grinned and eased her entire hand into the woman’s anus. She felt the sphincter loosening and contracting as she pushed in, inch by inch.

As her hand slid in up to the wrist, Narcissa wailed into the room. A wet flood splashed out over Rita’s hand from the woman’s pussy. Her ass gaped and natural fluid mixed with just a hint of blood flowed out from around her wrist.

Harry looked on in wide-eyed wonder. He’d never seen the like. Rita’s hand had disappeared up Narcissa Malfoy’s ass. As Rita pulled slightly, he could see the woman’s opening stretch outward to hang onto his wife’s wrist. She pulled and pushed slowly. Narcissa literally _grunted_ as the girl moved.

Rita was _thoroughly_ enjoying herself. She could tell that Harry was once again rock hard. “Climb on top of her and fuck her again,” She bade him. “I wanna hear her scream.”

Harry frowned and looked down at Narcissa. She was lying limp on the bed, her eyes unfocused. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“You won’t,” Rita said, shaking her head. “It’ll feel fucking phenomenal to her, believe me.”

Harry, nodded. “As long as you’re sure.” He moved over and straddled Narcissa’s lap. He was surprised when the woman seemingly lifted her pussy toward him. She flicked her eyes to him and gave him a single subtle nod. It was all she had the energy for. He once again pushed his cock into her pussy. He could feel his own semen lubricating her channel.

“Ooooooohhhhhh,” Narcissa moaned once again. She was so completely _full_ that it nearly drove her mad.

Harry could feel the additional tension as Rita’s hand moved back and forth. He again pounded into her. He knew he wouldn’t last long. “I’m going to cum,” he said to the woman beneath him. She simply nodded to him. After another two minutes, he once again emptied himself into her.

Narcissa Malfoy was nearly comatose. She stared half-conscious at the ceiling. Her mind was completely blank.

Rita gently pulled her fist free. Narcissa’s ass gaped wide open. Rita leaned in and licked the circumference, hungrily. She rose to her feet, licking her hand clean. She stared down at the exhausted woman. Harry moved to stand beside her. She turned to her husband. “Did you enjoy that, baby?”

“I did, rather,” He said, grinning. “Can’t wait to do it again.”

“I can’t wait to let you.” Rita offered, hugging him tightly to her.

Narcissa Malfoy, for her part, was completely and thoroughly _spent_. She’d never, _ever_ realized that sex could be so enjoyable. While her body fought to recover, her mind was reeling. She had much to do come morning.

With her miserable husband out of the way, she had a will to amend. Being that Lucius had given her nothing but misery and heartache, she would see to it that the man’s legacy died with him. Draco would be left with nothing. Harry and his bride would become the heirs to the Malfoy and Black family fortunes. She would be given the most precious gift of all.

The child of The Boy Who Lived.

A bargain at twice the price as far as she was concerned. She looked into the eyes of the young lovers as they regarded her. _So this is what love truly feels like_ , she thought as she slowly fell to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Harry slept soundly, wrapped in Narcissa Malfoy’s loving embrace. Rita stood beside the bed, smiling. The night had gone _exceptionally_ well. The woman had taken to her and Harry far, _far_ more fervently than she’d expected. She was honestly beside herself. One thing she desperately wanted to give Harry was a child. But she was fairly certain she couldn’t have kids. While she did want Narcissa as little save a sexual slave to the pair, she didn’t anticipate the woman to want to bear Harry’s offspring. That was quite unexpected.

She sighed and turned, leaving them to their slumber. She business to attend to. She moved down the stairs and to the parlor. Lucius Malfoy’s cold, stiff body lay upon the carpet where they’d left him. She found it to be quite humorous, to be honest. The entire scenario played very much to her sadistic nature. Narcissa Malfoy murdered the man in cold blood, then, while his corpse was growing cold, fucked the shit out of the boy that was Lucius Malfoy was bent on destroying for his master.

Rita chuckled as she looked down at the body. “What am I gonna do with you?” She asked as she absently scratched the ears of one of the Malfoy’s boarhounds.

“Just make sure it sends a message.”

Rita turned to see Narcissa Malfoy standing, nude of form in the doorway of the room. She sauntered over and stood beside the girl. She glared at her dead husband. “He was deep into Voldemort’s inner circle. So make sure you send a message to the Dark Lord.” She regarded the girl. “I’ve experienced how powerful you are. I know, if you were of a mind to, you could destroy Voldemort outright.” She gave Rita a smirk. “I know why you’re not, just to be clear. You’re enjoying yourself too much to make it quick.”

Rita sniggered. “Nice to find a woman that understands.”

“I’ve been known to be a bit… _sadistic_ in my time.” She sighed and looked back at Lucius. “Probably what initially attracted me to him.”

“Do you regret killing him?” Rita asked.

“Gods, no,” Narcissa responded, shaking her head. “He was a terrible lover, a horrible father, and a lackluster husband.” She smiled at the girl. “What you and Harry did for me last night was…I never thought lovemaking could be that good.”

“Wanted to make sure you enjoyed it.”

“Oh, I did. Just so you know, I’m going to be speaking with the minister of our estate. I’m amending my will to leave everything to Harry, you, and our child.” She ran her hand over her stomach.

“I’ve gotta ask,” Rita looked at the woman. “Why are you so set on having a baby with Harry?”

Narcissa sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m not getting any younger. Before I am no longer able to bear children, I would like to have something to be proud of. Harry is, he’s strong. So very strong and brave to face down all he has. I know he’s just a boy but-,”

“He sure as hell doesn’t make love like one.” Rita offered.

“No, he doesn’t.” She tapped Rita’s nose. “And _you_ , my dear girl are _incredibly_ nasty.”

Rita grinned and blushed. “I try.”

“I suppose it’s about legacy. I don’t want my legacy, the Black family’s legacy to be _him_ or Draco. I want it to mean something.” She again rubbed her stomach. “And hopefully last night gave us that.” She again smiled at the girl. “And I thank you for allowing me the opportunity.”

Rita slid over and pulled Narcissa in for a spine numbing kiss. _Fuck me, she can kiss_ , she thought.

Narcissa’s arms wrapped around the girl, returning the impassioned embrace. The pair parted, each licking their lips. “My pleasure,” Rita said to the woman. “Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll take care of him and join you shortly.”

The elder woman nodded, kissing the girl again. “Don’t be gone too long.” She held her hand a moment longer and stepped away, strutting across the floor to the door.

Rita shook her head and turned back to Lucius. “We need to get you presentable.”

 

Harry awoke with a start. Rita slid in behind him. “Good morning, love.” She purred. She moved her hands around him, holding him close.

“Where did you go?” He asked, turning to look at her.

“I just took the trash out,” she said, running her hands down his chest and stomach.

“Why would you do that?”

“I got rid of Lucius’ body.” She clarified. “She suggested I send a message. So I made sure it was loud and clear.”

“What did you do?” He asked, frowning.

“Let’s just say it’s a lesson that’s going to stick.” She said. “I went to the Ministry…”

 

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks both fought to keep the contents of their stomachs where they were. Not everyone present was so fortunate. Several of those nearby vomited all over the floor.

“Who do you think did this?” Tonks asked.

“I don’t know,” Kingsley returned. “Someone either very brave or very stupid. But whatever they are, they’re incredibly powerful.” He motioned to the several Aurors about the display. “They can’t get him down.”

They all were forced to stare at Lucius Malfoy’s dead, naked corpse as it hung from the large statue in the main hall of the Ministry building. His Dark Mark was displayed for all to see. In bloody furrows on his chest was carved the words ‘Another One Bites the Dust’. He narrowed his eyes. Suddenly an idea struck him. He had a notion of who might be responsible for the gruesome spectacle. “I’m going to check on a few things. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Tonks looked at him and nodded.

Kingsley moved to the floo and tossed his powder in, stepping into the fireplace.

He emerged from the hearth inside Dumbledore’s office. The wizened Headmaster sat at his desk, sipping tea. “Kingsley. To what do I owe the pleasure?” The large black man was obviously distressed. “What’s the matter?”

“Lucius Malfoy is dead,” He said, matter of fact.

“What?” Dumbledore said, leaning forward.

“His body was left in the Ministry foyer. He was magically hung from the statue in the main hall.” He went on to detail the scene. “It’s only a matter of time before it’s in the newspaper.”

Dumbledore cursed under his breath. “Damn her,” he said, angrily.

“It’s her, isn’t it? The girl from America.”

Dumbledore sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. “I can’t say for certain. She’s definitely of the mindset to send such a message. And she’s definitely powerful enough for it.”

“I’ve already been tasked with finding his killer.” He dropped to the chair and rubbed his face in his hands. “Is it wicked of me that I don’t want to? If I had my druthers, I’d thank her.”

Dumbledore couldn’t help but nod his agreement. “But we must know if she is responsible.”

Kingsley nodded. “I agree.”

Dumbledore rose to his feet and walked quickly and determinedly through the school to the Slytherin dungeon. He tapped the brick wall with his wand and entered. Given the hour, some of the children were up and wandering about. “Excuse me? Has anyone seen Rita Wayward? I’d like to speak with her.”

“Should probably try the Gryffindor boys dorm, then.” This from Pansy Parkinson. “She spends her nights shagging her husband in his bed.” She shook her head. “She never stays down here with us. I don’t think she’s slept in her bed at all.”

Dumbledore frowned. He nodded and did as the girl suggested. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. They _are_ married, after all.”

Kingsley was stunned. “Isn’t Harry underage? He’s only fifteen.”

“He was apparently emancipated when he was fled to America. That’s where he met Rita. They wed and returned.” Dumbledore offered.

“But to have a… _physical_ relationship is just, it’s improper.”

“Unfortunately there is nothing for it.” The elderly wizard sighed. “We can only hope they curb their public displays of affection.”

The pair entered the Gryffindor common room. Hermione sat on the sofa with her back against the armrest. Ginny Weasley rested against the brunette with Hermione’s arms about her. The pair were chatting happily. They both smiled as Dumbledore and Shacklebolt came in. “Good morning, Headmaster,” Hermione said. “Mr. Shacklebolt. What brings you two to the dorms?”

“We’re looking for Rita. We were given to understand she might be here.” Kingsley explained.

Both girls shook their heads. “She isn’t here. Neither is Harry. Ron said he never came back from classes yesterday.”

Dumbledore frowned and turned to Kingsley. “That’s unlike Harry.” He turned back to Hermione. “Any idea where he might have gone?”

Again the pair shook their heads. “Wherever they want, I imagine,” Ginny said, giggling.

Dumbledore stared at them a moment. “Indeed. Thank you, Miss Granger. Miss Weasley.” He then turned to Kingsley. They left the Gryffindor common room and made their way out into the hall. “It doesn’t make any sense. Harry would never leave school. He would have been seen if he left by broom.”

“Unless he didn’t leave by broom.” Kingsley offered. “Perhaps he… _apparated_?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “He doesn’t know how to apparate. And there is no apparating on school grounds. The wards prevent it.” He sighed. “Rita.”

“She can apparate?” Shacklebolt asked.

“She can _teleport_ ,” Dumbledore admitted. “She is _insanely_ powerful. The magic she knows, Kingsley…she only attends this school to watch over Harry. I take no exception to it and allow her to stay. She calms Harry and wants nothing more than to make him happy. And having someone of her abilities looking out for him is a godsend.” He massaged the bridge of his nose.

“But?” Kingsley asked.

“His happiness is the _only_ thing she cares about. And will do anything – and I do mean _anything_ – to achieve it. She has no conscience beyond that simple tenet. Nothing and no one means a damn to her. She would let the world and everyone in it burn if she could be safe with Harry in the ashes.”

“Surely not,” Shacklebolt said, disturbed.

“Lucius Malfoy was there when Voldemort returned. He watched as the Dark Lord tortured Harry. So it would only stand to reason that Rita would kill him. And I dare say the display you described is _exactly_ what she would do as a warning to all those that work with Voldemort. She’s calling him out.”

Kingsley groaned and rubbed his temples. “I just hope the wizarding world can survive their eventual clash.”

“As do I, Kingsley. As do I.” Dumbledore said, shaking his head one last time.

 

Narcissa stood with Harry’s hands in hers. She gazed into his eyes, lovingly. “Thank you for a wonderful night, Harry.”

He swallowed and nodded. “It was my pleasure, Narcissa. You are an incredible woman.” He gave her a shy smile. “I would like to do it again if that’s alright.”

“Oh, Harry.” She pulled him in and hugged him. “My house is your house.” She held her hand out to Rita, who took it immediately. “Both of you are welcome. This is your home, now.”

Harry had honestly longed to hear those words. He’d never truly felt at home anywhere he lived. But something about the way Narcissa offered the welcome struck a chord in him. He was somewhat conflicted by how he felt. In the lady Malfoy, he had both a lover unlike any other, but he also had the mother he’d always wanted but never had. It was a rather bizarre juxtaposition. In his world, indeed in just about any world, it was improper for her to fill _both_ roles. Yet that was exactly what Narcissa Malfoy did. And, if her earnest pleas were anything to go by, she always would. “Thank you, Narcissa.” He said, smiling brightly at her. “We’ve got to get back to school.”

“Of course, dear. Your education is important. Visit me often.” She kissed him intently. “I’ll see you soon.” She then did the same to Rita. “Look after our boy. He’s your responsibility, young lady.”

Rita liked how forceful the elder woman could be. “Yes, ma’am.” The pair stepped away and disappeared in a flash.

Narcissa nodded and turned to retrieve some documents. She had business to conduct. And she had a letter to pen to her soon-to-be disowned son. The thought of writing him off brought a smile to her face.

 

“Dumbledore was here looking for you.” Pansy offered to Rita as the girl once again walked naked to the showers.

“Gee,” Rita said, grinning widely. “I wonder what he wants.”

“Probably to expel you for having sex with Harry whenever you get a chance,” Pansy said.

Rita turned and looked at the girl. She slowly began walking toward her. “And just what would you know about sex, hmm, Pansy?” She back the raven-haired girl up against the wall.

“I know what sex is, Rita. I’m not a complete nimrod.”

Rita smirked. “Just a partial nimrod, then?”

“Ugh. That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Pansy put her hand on Rita’s chest, between her large breasts. “And if you get any closer, I’ll-,”

Rita immediately shot in. “You’ll what?” She cut Pansy off. She was rather shocked when she felt the girl’s wand pressing into the bottom of her throat.

“I happen to know the blasting charm, Rita. At this range, it would take your head clean off.” Pansy glared at the girl.

Rita grinned like a skull. “Do it.”

“Wh-what?” Pansy stammered.

“You heard me. Do it. Blow my head clean off.”

Pansy pressed the wand in harder. “Don’t push me, mudblood. I’ll-,” She started when her wand was ripped from her hand.

“You aren’t gonna do-,” Rita began. Her face suddenly flew to the side as Pansy’s fist cracked against her cheek. She whipped her eyes back to the girl. She drew her own fist back, driving it into the wall. Stone cracked and dust flew onto Pansy’s shoulder. For several seconds the pair stared at each other. Pansy’s eyes were wide with fear. Rita’s were thick with avarice. Slowly, the blonde pulled away, took a step back, and offered Pansy her wand back. “Here. Take it.”

“Wh-why are you-?”

“Because I like you.” She said. “You’ve got guts, you’ve got heart, and you aren’t afraid to go back to the playground on a bitch.” She smiled. “That goes a long way with me.” The black haired girl took the wand. Just as her hand closed about it, Rita pulled, causing Pansy to stumble against her. She gripped the girl’s hair and pulled her head back and glared menacingly down into her terrified eyes. “But if you _ever_ hit me again? I’ll fuck you up in ways you can’t even spell.” She then forcibly buried her tongue deep into Pansy’s mouth.

The Slytherin girl could feel the long sinuous muscle caress her own tongue, the walls of her mouth, and go further. Rita’s tongue seemed to be endless. It wrapped about Pansy’s uvula, causing her to nearly gag. It then slithered even _further_ , sliding down the girl’s throat. Pansy panicked, feeling her neck bulge at the unfamiliar, yet not wholly unpleasant intrusion. It was the most peculiar sensation she’d ever experienced. For reasons that completely escaped her, she felt her arms slowly encircling Rita’s waist. Her own tongue slid sensually along that of the taller blonde. _I’m actually enjoying this_ , she thought. The realization horrified her.

Then, all too quickly it was over. Rita pulled her tongue back, leaving Pansy panting and coughing against the wall. “Nice talking to you.” She then went into the shower, leaving the girl breathing heavily, staring after her.

Pansy remained against the wall, trembling. She ran her hands down her body and stopped when she realized she was slowly sliding her hand under the hem of her skirt. She shook her head, stood up straight and stormed away. Doing her best to push the thoughts of the blonde from her mind.

But it was harder said than done.

 

The Slytherin common room was empty by the time she got out of the shower. She dressed in a short leather skirt, a black fishnet shirt, a sports bra and a black silk thong beneath her skirt. She once again donned her thigh high leather boots and tugged her robes on over the top of it all. She left her long blonde hair to hang in a careless wash down her back.

She nodded to the girl in the mirror and snapped her fingers. In a flash, she was standing in Dumbledore’s office next to the large overstuffed chair. The aged wizard looked up to see her. He was somewhat surprised but hid it very well. “Rita. Nice of you to come see me.”

“Pansy Parkinson was nice enough to let me know you were looking for me.” Rita sat down and crossed her arms. “Nice girl.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, well. It’s nice to see you getting along with your housemates. So where exactly did you and Harry wander off to last night? I’ve been given to understand that neither of you slept in your rooms.”

“We took a little trip,” Rita said. “We went to visit a friend.”

“Who, if I might ask?” Dumbledore asked politely.

“Not at all. We visited Narcissa Malfoy.” She watched his face for any sign of emotion. She had to admit, the old man hid it well. She smirked. _But not well enough_.

“I…wasn’t aware you and she were friends.” Dumbledore offered.

“Well, you know the old axiom. Birds of a feather and all that. We have a lot in common.”

He sighed heavily and rubbed his face with his hands. For several seconds he didn’t say anything. He did finally look at her. Gone was the wizened, grandfatherly Headmaster. Now his eyes were serious and his face was like stone. “Did you _have_ to kill him?”

“Kill who?” Rita asked. She knew perfectly well who he was talking about but she wanted to hear him say it.

“Lucius Malfoy was found this morning at-,”

“Oh, I know where they found him.” She smiled happily. “I was the one that put him there.” She then shook her head. “But I didn’t kill him. He was already dead when I got to him.”

Dumbledore frowned. “If you didn’t kill him, then who did?”

This was the part that Rita was looking forward to. “His wife did.” She said with a pleased expression. “She was rather pissed at him.”

Dumbledore was completely gobsmacked by the revelation. While he was no authority on their marriage, he did know that, for Draco’s sake, Narcissa would stop at nothing. He was always given to understand that the pair loved each other very much. “Why would she…?”

“She had a change of heart. Seems she didn’t want Lucius and his influences around her anymore.”

He narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Is this a choice she made _voluntarily_?”

“What? You think I just ran riot over her mind and commanded her to kill her husband?” She asked him.

“Are you saying you _couldn’t_?” He shot back.

“Oh, I’m not saying I couldn’t. I’m saying I _didn’t_. Harry and I just convinced her what a piece of shit he was and she made the choice on her own.” Rita explained.

“And how pray tell, did you… _convince_ her?” Dumbledore asked.

“Truthfully, Harry did most of the talking,” Rita said, leaning back. “He was pretty damn convincing. Kinda hard to maintain the cast-iron bitch attitude when the boy that your husband is bent on grinding into the dirt throws all the shit he did in your face.”

“So you’re saying you had nothing to do with it?” Dumbledore wasn’t convinced.

“Like I said, she made the choice on her own. I didn’t tell her to do it. I left it up to her. I mean, make no mistake, I’d have probably have killed him anyway but she beat me to it.”

Dumbledore continued to frown at her. He could tell she was telling the truth. While he wasn’t doubting that Rita somehow manipulated the woman into it, she didn’t outright _command_ the action. “But you did put his body on display?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll cop to that. I’m actually quite proud of that little demonstration. It’s putting everyone who bears the mark on notice. It tells them that they’re on borrowed time.” She smiled. “But don’t worry. Professor Snape is safe. He’s a good potions teacher and I kind of like him. As long as he doesn’t give Harry shit, he’s off the menu.”

“Draco, I’m pretty sure, doesn’t know his father is dead. I’d like you not to tell him. Or of your complicity in his death.”

“I’m not gonna say shit. Neither is Harry. Chances are good, mommy dearest will tell him. Either that or he’ll learn about it in The Daily Prophet tomorrow morning.” She laughed out loud. “Can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

“Do you truly take such pleasure in the misfortune of others?” He asked her, somewhat disgusted.

“You saying you don’t?”

“No, I most certainly do not.” Dumbledore snarled. He was beyond incensed by the accusation.

“Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?” She asked him. She began ticking off her fingers. “You _deliberately_ brought a dangerous magical artifact into a school _filled with children_ , with no regard for their safety, knowing full well that a madman was looking for it. A madman that would have absolutely no compunction carving a bloody swath through everything in his way to get to it. You let Harry tangle with an evil possessed wizard when he was eleven fucking years old. You let a basilisk the size of a damn freight train slither through the castle and didn’t even think about getting the children out of here. You never told Harry about Sirius Black. You did _nothing_ to help Harry out during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. You _still_ haven’t even told Harry why Voldemort wants to kill him.” She paused a moment, letting it all sink in.

“You make it sound as if I’m some monster just pulling Harry’s strings.” He glared at her. “You make me sound as heartless as Voldemort.”

“Oh, no.” She said, shaking her head. “You’re _worse_.” She saw rage flash across his face. She honestly didn’t care. She leaned forward, staring directly at him. “Voldemort has one goal as far as Harry is concerned. _Just one_. To kill him. That’s it. It’s black and white. He’s easy to figure out because he’s a typical movie villain. Kill the hero, take over the world. Makes him easy, predictable. But you?” She shook her head. “You say you have Harry’s best interests at heart. That you wanna protect him. Yet, you constantly manipulate him to put him in harm’s way.” She cocked her head. “So which is it?”

He swallowed back his rage and sighed. “I _do_ have Harry’s best interests at heart. And I _do_ wish to protect him. You can believe that or not,”

“Good, because I don’t. If you really thought that, you would have been there from the beginning, as soon as Harry was old enough to walk and talk, you should have been training him. By the time Harry was attending Hogwarts, he should have been a magical wrecking machine. But no. You _deliberately_ kept him weak. You kept him from the wizarding world-,”

Dumbledore slammed his hand down onto his desk. “I kept him from the wizarding world to _save_ him!” He shouted.

“Bullshit!” She snapped back. She slammed _her_ hand down onto the old, heavy wood… and it crashed to the ground in splinters. “You kept him away to _control_ him! You put him with the Dursleys so he’d suffer. You wanted him to hate being there _so badly_ that when you swept in to bring him to Hogwarts, he’d think you were the second fucking coming. You _used him_!”

Dumbledore was very impressed with Rita’s physical strength. The desk was incredibly sturdy. This, however, didn’t take his mind off of their heated debate. “I didn’t know how badly they were treating-,”

“Harry Potter, Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey,” Rita said, her tone hard. “You knew how fucking horrible the Dursleys were, yet you left him there anyway.” She shook her head as he opened his mouth to speak. “And don’t you fucking _dare_ tell me it was because of the protection spell. And even if that was the case. All you had to do was show up at their door, make a little display to get them to treat him like a fucking human being. But hey, that would have been convenient. So you didn’t bother.”

Dumbledore didn’t really have anything to say to that. “I failed him. I realize that, now.”

“No,” Rita said, shaking her head. “You didn’t fail him. You _fucked_ him. Because you wanted to keep him in the dark, he wasn’t ready. If you’d have taught him what he needed to know _when_ he needed to know, he’d have been _far_ more prepared when he tangled with Voldemort. But now, because of _you_ ,” she stabbed her finger toward him. “He has nightmares. He screams himself awake constantly because he keeps reliving that night. He has to watch Cedric die over and over again. And it’s _your_ fault. The only thing that keeps him from offing himself is me. So you tell me, Professor, are you _really_ gonna sit here and try to convince me that _you_ aren’t the villain of Harry’s life?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

He stared at her, sadness in his eyes. “If you believe me so wicked why haven’t you killed me? I know you have the power.”

“You’re right, I do.” She said, nodding. “But the reason I haven’t is that, for reasons that escape me, Harry likes you. I can’t fucking stand you, but I love my husband and want him to be happy, so I’m leaving you alone. But don’t push me, old man. I’m willing to forgive you a lot, but you get involved in Harry’s life one more time, I will fucking end you. And it won’t be pretty.”

He sighed and shook his head. He pulled his wand free and waved it at his desk. The wood reformed, becoming hale and whole once again. “I understand. Despite what you believe, I did truly believe I was doing things right. That was my only goal.”

“So you say.” Rita shook her head. “I don’t really care. I’m going to protect Harry, now. He’s mine. He’s my responsibility. And when his kid is born, they will be too.”

Dumbledore frowned. “You’re pregnant?”

“Me?” She shook her head. “No. I can’t have kids.”

“Then how is Harry…?”

Rita grinned widely. “Why don’t you ask Narcissa Malfoy?” The stunned look on the old wizard’s face was priceless.


	15. Chapter 15

****Draco Malfoy entered the great hall with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle on his heels. The three chatted idly as they made their way to the Slytherin table. He slid in with his housemates and began eating.

“Your ears should be burning,” Pansy said, nodding toward the Gryffindor table.

He flicked his eyes over to see Rita and Harry sitting intimately close to each other, as they were wont to do. They were whispering between each other conspiratorially and occasionally looked over at him. He met eyes with Rita and the girl grinned with sinister glee at him. She gave him a little wave and made a kissing face at him. He sneered and went back to his meal. “Why should I care what they’re talking about?”

As they did every morning, owls swept into the great hall, dropping letters, copies of The Daily Prophet and The Quibbler, and packages from home.

Draco was surprised when a letter dropped onto his lap. He rarely, if ever, received mail from his parents. Happily, he lifted the letter and pulled it open. He could see it was in his mother’s beautiful handwriting. His mates watched as his eyes quickly scrolled across the text. As he read, his smile melted away. His brow furrowed and his lips began to quiver. Tears moistened his eyes. His hands clutched the letter tighter. His body shook as a sob worked its way up. “Can’t be,” he whispered.

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, concern for their friend painted plainly on their faces. Finally, Vincent leaned in closer. “What’s the matter, mate? What does it say?”

Suddenly, there were murmurs and hushed whispering all throughout the room.

Hermione looked about and then down at her copy of The Daily Prophet. “Oh my lord,” she said, staring at the front page. “Look at this.” She turned the paper around so everyone could see it. **_Pureblood Wizard and Social Magnate found Dead_** the headline read. Below was a picture of Lucius Malfoy.

Rita and Harry looked at each other. Rita was grinning. Harry had no reaction at all. The blonde then turned to look at Draco. She could see the boy barely holding himself together. “I was right. The look on his face _is_ worth it.”

Harry turned to regard him. Without warning, he rose to his feet and moved away from the table. “Harry? Where are you-?” Rita began.

Harry stayed her with a hand and walked around the Slytherins to stand beside Draco. He laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. The young Malfoy turned to look up at him with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Draco. I know we aren’t friends and have, haven’t seen eye to eye on anything. But I _am_ sorry. I know how you feel. Your father did right by you and your mum. He-,”

“What do you know of it, _Potter_? It’s _your_ fault he’s dead!” Draco snapped, shrugging Harry’s hand off his shoulder. “I just know you had something to do with it. You and that mudblood cow of yours.”

Harry was immediately angered by the boy’s response. Without thinking, his hand whipped out and gripped the front of Draco’s robes. He hauled the boy from his seat to eye level with him. Everyone around was shocked. “What did you say, you repulsive little twat?” Harry growled at him. Draco was beyond surprised. His feet dangled above the floor. “Say that to me again, Draco. I _fucking dare_ you to say speak of my wife that way again. Do it and I’ll snatch the life right out of you.” As Crabbe and Goyle shook off the astonishment and began rising, Harry spoke. “Either of you fat slobs moves a muscle and I’ll put his head through the table.”

“Put him down, Potter! _Now_!” Professor Snape snarled intensely as he glided nearer to the group.

On any other day, at any other time, the Potions Master’s voice was enough to chill Harry to the bone. Especially with it carrying the tone it was. But not at this moment, not on this day. Harry slowly turned to look at the tall, dark form of the Slytherin head of house. “Turn around and walk away, Professor. This is no concern of yours. This is between me and Draco.”

The sudden and intense glare Harry affixed him with _actually_ caused Snape to pause. He’d never seen such anger in the boy. “He is a Slytherin. If he is to be punished for any wrongdoing, it’ll be from me. Not you. You risk more house points than you can possibly recover if you don’t put him down, _now_.”

Harry smirked, derisively. “Do you think I have a single solitary damn to give about house points anymore, _Professor_? I’ve got one of the worlds’ most powerful wizards on the hunt for me. I’ve faced him down three times and lived to tell about it. I’ve been on the receiving end of his worst, Professor. So don’t think you can stand there, sneering like a cheap movie villain…” He snorted. “And make me nervous.”

Snape noted with a touch of admiration that Harry stood, still holding Draco Malfoy’s full weight off the ground with one hand and didn’t seem to be straining in the least. “His father just died, Potter. He’s angry, he’s hurt. I’m sure _you_ can empathize.”

“That’s what I was _trying_ to do… _Snape_.” The statement instantly brought “Ooh’s” and “Ahh’s” from the students around him. “But he had to pop off,” Draco opened his mouth and began to speak, but Harry wasn’t having it. “ _Shut up, Malfoy. I’m not talking to you_ ,” He quickly snarked at the boy, shaking him furiously. When the blonde wizard fell silent, he turned back to Snape. “But he had to pop off like he always does. It isn’t a boy angry that his father died. It’s a boy that’s a spoiled pratt that gets away with bloody murder because of who his father is.” He then grinned like a skull. “Sorry, my mistake,” He looked back to Draco. “Who his father _was_.”

“Fifty points from Gryffindor,” Snape growled. “I’ll not have-,”

Harry cut him off. “Fifty?” He said, chuckling. “That’s it?” He stepped back, dragging the Slytherin boy from the bench. “Only fifty bloody points?” He lifted Draco higher and drew his fist back. “Let’s see if we can go for a hundred.”

“HARRY POTTER!” Professor Snape shouted. He pulled his wand free and leveled it at the boy who lived. He was beyond worried now. _The boy’s finally lost his mind,_ Snape thought.

Rita, having watched the whole display, decided that enough was enough. She was excited as could be. When she saw Harry manhandle Draco, she knew what had happened. Over the course of the past several months, she’d been slowly and subtly _altering_ Harry. He was becoming stronger, faster, and tougher than he had been. She wasn’t really sure the degree of the change until this moment. Holding aloft a hundred and fifteen-pound boy without effort was quite the feat. She rose to her feet and sidled over. As Snape whipped his wand out, she rested a hand on his arm and looked at him. She shook her head and pushed his arm down. “Harry, love? That’s enough.  Let him go.”

Harry, hearing his wife’s soothing voice, turned to regard her. “Did you hear what he said about you?”

“I did. And now that you’ve scared the shit out of him, you can let him down.” She moved to Harry and kissed him. She whispered into his ear. “You have no idea how horny you’ve made me. So put that pussy down so you can properly make use of mine.”

Harry quickly dropped Malfoy to the floor. He then pulled his wife in and kissed her passionately. The pair were gone in a flash, leaving everyone in the great hall staring at the spot they’ve been standing just a heartbeat before.

Ron stared wide-eyed. He then turned and looked at Hermione. “I think Harry’s finally gone balmy.”

Hermione watched with awe as well. She shifted her eyes to Ron. “I’d say he’s rather earned it, personally.”

Snape helped Draco to his feet. “You should learn to watch your tongue, Draco. Potter has ever been erratic. And his wife is even moreso. You need to learn that.”

The boy sighed and lifted the letter, handing it to his head of house. “This is what mum wrote me.” He was nearly crying.

Snape read the correspondence and frowned. He’d known both Lucius and Narcissa a long, _long_ time. What he read was completely and utterly out of character for the Malfoy matriarch. She had always been steadfastly devoted to Draco. Her son was the be-all and end-all of her world. She would sacrifice everything for the boy.

Then to, out of the blue, renounce him and cast him from their home? It didn’t make any sense at all. It was _never_ something a loving mother like Narcissa would do. And yet?

“I don’t understand this,” he said in confusion.

“That makes two of us.” Draco offered.

“Take the day, son. Go back to the dorms and collect yourself. I’ll excuse you from classes today.” Snape said, softly.

“Thank you, Professor,” Draco said as he turned and headed to the dungeon.

Pansy Parkinson watched him go and turned to Professor Snape. “He shouldn’t be left alone, Professor. Who knows what he might do.”

The Potions Master could see the concern in the girl’s eyes. “Good thinking, Miss Parkinson. See to it that he’s alright.”

The girl sprang to her feet and rushed after him. Snape sighed and looked once again down at the letter. He swept from the great hall, heading toward the owlery. He needed answers. He needed to talk to Narcissa.

 

Harry and Rita appeared in what looked to be an old broken down ruin. The morning air was crisp and clear. A thin fog hung over the ground. The pair parted, breathing heavily.

Harry quickly shrugged his robes off, turned and lay them on the soft grass. He then removed her robes and did the same. She bit her lip as she watched him. Even as excited and aroused as the boy was, he took the time to be a gentleman. It was one of the many reasons she fell in love with him.

Content with how they were situated, Harry rose once again and pulled Rita in against him. His lips pressed against hers for another bruising kiss. His hands moved down to the hem of her skirt and lifted it. He took two large handfuls of her bottom and gave a squeeze. As the pair kissed, Harry couldn’t help but become excited as he felt not two arms wrap about him, but six. He drew back and looked into Spiral’s silver-blue eyes. Her long, shimmering silver hair framed her strong, lean face. Her true form was _vastly_ preferred to the disguise she was forced to wear. “Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said to her.

She smiled back at him. It lifted her heart, knowing that he didn’t fear her at all. He wasn’t turned off by her extremely alien appearance. He didn’t shudder as her metallic limbs caressed his heat flushed skin. To him, even as bizarre as she looked, she was the most gorgeous woman in the world. “I love you, Harry,” she said in return. She moved to take the skirt off, but Harry stayed her hands. “Leave it. It looks good on you.” He turned her around and got to his knees. He pushed the skirt up and leaned in, kissing lightly across her cheeks. His hands squeezed the meat of her bum as he kissed. She let out a soft moan.

Harry absolutely _loved_ the way Spiral’s ass felt in his hands. The woman had the physical strength to lift and throw a city bus. And that strength was reflected in her muscle tone and physique. Yet, she wasn’t _hard_. She was soft in all the right places. He moved her thong to the side and ran his tongue up the crack of her ass. She cooed happily. Two of her hands began squeezing her nipples, two more dragged their fingers through her hair, and the final two hands reached back, resting on Harry’s head.

For his part, Harry reached around and began manipulating her moist sex. He again pushed her thong aside and caressed her swollen clit as his tongue penetrated her behind.

Spiral tilted her head back and moaned loudly. She didn’t have to be quiet. There wasn’t anyone around for miles.

Harry, after having spent months with the woman, knew her body like a fine instrument. He knew just how she liked to be touched. And he utilized that expertise to bring her to a quick orgasm.

Spiral shuddered as the ecstasy cascaded through her. She stepped forward and turned, looking down at her young lover. She casually pushed him to his back on their robes and knelt, taking his boots, pants, and boxers off in short order. She continued to stare at him as she did so. He bit his lip, smiling. As soon as he was free of his restrictive clothing, she pulled her thong completely off and straddled his lap, taking him deep inside. She again moaned. “ _God_ you feel good,” she said to him. She began rocking back and forth.

Harry reached up and began working her breasts under her shirt. She ripped her shirt open, sending buttons every which way. She lifted her bra to give him easier access. “Did watching me manhandle Draco excite you, love?” He asked her.

She looked into his eyes and nodded. “I love it when you get all hardcore.” She flexed her inner muscles, causing him to gasp. “It’s a shame I can’t give you a child, Harry.” She said, softly. “I can change others but I can’t do so to myself.” She took hold of his hands with all six of her own. “I’m sorry that’s the one thing I can’t give you.”

Harry sat up and pulled her close, kissing her. “You’ve already given me the best gift any man could ever have.” He rested his hand on her chest. “This.” He smiled at her. “Your heart.”

“As black and withered as it is,” Spiral said, sadly.

“It isn’t so to me. To me it’s big and it’s wonderful. You’ve given me a life that I never thought I would find. I don’t care how dark and depraved you are. I don’t care what you do to others. You are kind to those that are close to me and you love me without reservation. And everyone you’ve gone after has either harmed me or someone I care about.” He shook his head. “I have no problem with that. It’s nice to have someone powerful in my corner for a change. I’m tired of never being ready, never being _strong enough_ to face those that would do me harm. With you, I don’t have to worry about that any longer.” He kissed her firmly. “That means the world to me.”

Spiral drew back and stared deeply into his eyes. When they first met and got together, there was always a small hint of fear looking back at her. Harry loved her, there was no question of that. But there was always a minute part of him that was afraid of her. Given how they met, her true self that is, she wasn’t necessarily surprised. And through the past few weeks, she’d displayed some very, _very_ questionable ethics and morals. She was willing to do _anything_ for him and he knew that. And there was a piece of him that was somewhat disgusted by it.

But now, as she looked into his eyes, there was no more fear. There was no more hesitation. He didn’t have anything reflected in his green orbs…but love. She’d always said, ever since they were wed, that Harry was _hers_. And that there was no limit to what she would do, no depths to which she would sink to keep him.

Now, it seemed, that road ran two directions. _She_ was _his_ , now. He had claimed her as his own. It had taken time but she was Harry’s woman, and his resolve to keep her as such was just as strong, just as deep. And that feeling, that realization was electric. She let out a soft sob and crushed his face to her chest, between her breasts. “I love you so much, Harry.”

He likewise held her tighter. He kissed her on her chest while renewing his hip movements.

Spiral let him go and looked down at him. “I’m yours, Harry. Your woman, your lover.” She kissed him intently. “Do what you want with me.”

He smiled and quickly rose and turned, resting her on her back. “What I want is to hear you scream my name.”

She squeezed his butt with one pair of hands, manipulated her breasts with another, and rested her head on the final pair. “Then fuck me, husband. Fuck me as deep and hard as you can.”

Harry took hold of her ankles, rested them on his shoulders and did just that. He drew almost completely out of her, then slammed back in with enough force to cause her body to shake.

“Oooohhh,” she moaned with every stroke. His strength was incredible. Her subtle manipulation of him over the past couple of months had produced fine results. His body slapped into hers with abandon. Immediately her climax began to build. She began calling his name as he hammered into her again and again. He reached his hand down and roughly pushed a pair of fingers into her ass.

And that was all she wrote. “Fuck, Harry!” She shouted as she came, _hard_.

Harry grimaced as he felt her channel squeeze him tightly. The sensation caused his own orgasm to rush forth. He emptied his testes into her, pumping her as full as he could.

Spiral continued to cum, flooding out of her pussy and onto the pair’s robes. At the moment, neither of them gave a shit.

Harry collapsed on top of his wife, breathing heavily. His head rested between her breasts, she was warm and soft. Her six arms wrapped about him, holding him firmly. He could still feel her spasming about his still throbbing cock. “I never want to leave here. I want to stay with you, like this, forever.”

“I know how you feel, baby,” Spiral said to him. After a second, she said, “Harry?” He lifted his head and looked at her. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He asked her, not understanding.

“For giving me _all_ of you. I know,” she swallowed. “I know there’s been a part of you that was afraid of me. Afraid of all of this,” she motioned up and down herself. “And a part of you that was disgusted by what I was, the things I’ve done.” She sniffed back the tears. “But when I look into your eyes, here, now…” She shook her head. “I don’t see it anymore.” She again swallowed, this time choking back a sob. “You accept me for everything that I am. For this, this _monster_ that I’ve become.”

Harry threaded his fingers through her thick silver hair, staring deeply into her eyes. “I just know what kind of person you are, Spiral. Yes, you’re the villain in your world, but in mine?” He kissed her fiercely. “You’re not. But you aren’t the hero, either. The world isn’t so black and white as that. It never has been. You’re _you_. You’re Spiral Potter. You’re _my_ hero. You saved me from a life that was slowly killing me, breaking me.” He bit his lip a moment, then continued. “I was afraid of you, once. Because you had no conscience. But knowing what I know now, seeing just how horrible people have actually been to me,” he shook his head. “No longer. You may be sick, twisted, and depraved, but you do so only to provide me with a better world. To give me what I want, even when I don’t know that I want it.” He chuckled. “I’d never thought of sleeping with Draco’s mother. But that night was quite enjoyable.”

“I didn’t expect her to wanna give you a kid. _That_ was out of left field.”

“But I do like the idea,” Harry admitted. “It’s actually quite good revenge against both Draco _and_ his late father.”

“I’ll always give you what you want, Harry.” Spiral offered him.

“As will I, beloved.” He kissed her again. “As will I.”


	16. Chapter 16

Pansy Parkinson strode along beside Draco as he walked slowly to the Slytherin dungeon. She was extremely worried about him. Normally he carried himself, as the muggle-born students would say, as if he owned the place. But now, as he moved along, his shoulders were slumped and his head was down. He looked… _pitiful_. She wasn’t sure what possessed her to do so, but she reached out and gently took his hand, threading her fingers between his.

Surprised, Draco looked at the intertwined hands, then up to Pansy. The girl offered him a soft, comforting smile. He sighed and gave her a thankful smile back. The pair continued on in silence. Draco spoke the password and patiently waited as the bricks in the wall parted to allow them entrance to the house common room. He stepped inside and moved over, falling heavily onto the sofa. He leaned his head back and buried his face in his hands.

Pansy sat beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. For several minutes, he just sat there, his hands resting over his eyes. “What did the letter say, Draco?” She finally asked him.

He drew in a few deep breaths to steady himself. “It said that my father had been killed because of his poor choices and even poorer company.” He wiped his tears. “And that I, having so taken after him, am being disowned, denounced, and,” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “And I’m never to set foot in Malfoy Manor again. I’m being left a modest stipend and the small summer cottage that father purchased a few years back in Dorset.” He fiercely wiped his eyes again. “I’m to never contact mother again.”

Pansy frowned. She had to admit, she’d only met Draco’s parents once or twice, but she _did_ know what kind of people they were. Both Lucius and Narcissa were both loving parents that thought the world of their son. The spoiled him rotten whenever they got the chance. She couldn’t imagine what the boy was feeling. To essentially lose both of his parents, as well as his family home in one sweep was…she honestly couldn’t imagine anything worse. “I’m sorry, Draco,” she said, her own voice filled with emotion. “I wish I could do something to change it.”

“I just, I don’t understand. I suppose,” He shook his head. “I suppose father being killed isn’t exactly a surprise, but for mum to just, just… _cut me off_? No warning, no explanation, no _nothing_? I don’t understand it. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Why not send her a floo call?” Pansy said, motioning to the large hearth. “Maybe the letter wasn’t from her. Maybe it was from someone that was pretending to _be her_.”

Draco stared at her. There was a slight sparkle in her eyes. “Maybe you’re right. It could be a, a joke or something.” He sat up. “That’s it! I’ll bet it was just a sick prank cooked up by Potter. Or that git, Weasley. He’d do something like this.” He shot to his feet and trotted to the fireplace. He took a small handful of the floo powder and tossed it into the low burning flames. “I’m sure mum had nothing to do with this.”

A moment later, he smiled as his mother’s face appeared in the flames. And as soon as he saw her dour, angered expression, his heart dropped. “I thought my letter was quite clear.” She snapped. “No contact seemed rather concise. Even _you_ can understand that much.”

“But mum,” Draco pleaded. “ _Why_?”

“Simple, boy. You’re your father’s son. You seem rather determined to walk his line. He’s brought nothing but darkness and despair to this house.” She shook her head. “And I’ll have it no longer. His choices led him to an early grave. I am doing everything I can to save what’s left of my good family name. I am pruning the family tree, so to speak. And _you_ are one of the branches that has to go.”

Pansy watched the exchange and bit back a spine-wracking sob. She couldn’t imagine how Draco felt at the moment.

“I’m only fifteen, mother. I, I have nowhere to go.”

She sighed in exasperation. “For heaven’s sake, Draco. You’ve never been the brightest boy but you aren’t stupid. I already explained that you’ll get a stipend and the cottage in Dorset. If you’re at least moderately intelligent about your finances, you should be able to live quite comfortably.”

“You, this, this isn’t like you. I think whoever killed father has you under the Imperius Curse. You’re not acting like yourself.”

Narcissa had to admit, that it was a relatively good deduction and theory on the part of her son. She knew that he would be shocked by her letter and would want clarification. However… “I know for a fact that isn’t true, Draco. I’m not under anyone’s control but my own. These are my choices.”

“But I still don’t understand why. I mean, father is dead and you, you don’t even seem to _care_.” Draco was nearly crying now. “He _loved_ you.”

“No, Draco. He didn’t love me and I’d stopped loving him a long time ago. Our marriage was never one of love. It was always a marriage of _convenience_. And your father only ever loved my _name_. He loved my _money_. He squandered the Black family fortune and dragged the Black family name through the mud. I’m doing what I can to salvage it before it’s too late. And I’m cutting you off before you do the same. I’m changing my name back to Black. The Malfoy line, for good or ill, rests solely with you, now. I’m no longer a part of it.” With that, she was gone, leaving behind nothing but the flames.

Pansy sat staring at Draco. The boy’s shoulders began shaking as he started crying. He slowly sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands. She could hear him sobbing. She rose to her feet and moved over, dropping down in front of him. She wrapped her arms around him and cradled his head to her chest. He threw his arms around her and wept in earnest. Her heart broke for him. Her mind couldn’t even comprehend how badly he had to hurt at that moment. She lifted his head and looked deeply into his red, tear-rimmed eyes. She drew him closer, kissing him softly. "I'm here, Draco." She let go of him, never breaking eye contact. She began removing her robes. She cast them aside and removed her sweater. She loosened her black necktie, pulled it over her head and lay with her other clothing. Then she started to unbutton the white button down shirt she wore beneath her robes.

As the girls simple dark green bra came into view, Draco frowned. “What are you doing, Pansy?”

The girl cocked her head a bit. “I can’t imagine how you feel. Your mind must be going a million directions at once.” She finished unbuttoning the shirt and pulled it open. “I’m going to help you take your mind off of things, if only for a short while.” In truth, she was just as surprised by her actions as he was. She’d had quite a proper upbringing. She’d never even touched herself before. This was all uncharted territory for her. But she knew that she had to do _something_ to help the boy. He’d just lost everything. So, she was determined to give him something back. If only a good memory to take away from such a horrible day. Finally, she reached back, unclasped her bra and lowered it slowly. Given that she a few months from her sixteenth birthday, she was still developing. Her breasts were barely a small handful. Her nipples were hardened by the chill air of the dungeon. A small shudder ran up her spine.

Draco, for his part, simply stared at her naked chest. He’d never even seen a girl naked before. He then lifted his eyes to hers. He sighed and shook his head. “Pansy I…” He reached over and lifted her robe, carefully draping it over her shoulders, covering her back up. “I don’t want you, for a solitary second to think that I’m rebuffing you. Because I’m not.” He leaned forward and pecked her on the lips. “But I can’t – _we­_ can’t do this. Not right now.” He again sobbed. “When, _if_ you still feel like this later, after I’ve, I’ve had some time to just,” emotion closed his throat off. He couldn’t speak any longer.

She smiled and pulled him in, again cradling him close. “When you’re ready, Draco. Only when you’re ready.”

Draco sniffed. “You deserve a boy’s undivided attention.”

She again looked at his face. “I don’t want _a boy’s_ attention, Draco.” She pecked him on the forehead. “I want _your_ attention. But only when you’re ready.”

He sniffed and smiled at her. “Thank you, Pansy.” He then rested his head against her chest…and wept.

Pansy Parkinson sat on her knees in front of the fireplace and held him as he cried.

 

Narcissa stepped away from the fireplace and made sure she was dressed appropriately for conducting business. She gathered her leather document case, took a handful of floo powder and cast it into the fireplace. She entered and was whisked away to the open atrium of the Ministry.

She smirked as she saw a large black curtain up around the huge gaudy statue. She knew full well why it was there. _You always wanted people to look at you and marvel, Lucius. Careful what you wish for_. She could immediately hear murmuring and whispering. She paid them no mind as she went about her tasks. Her first order of business was to reclaim that which she lost over a decade ago; her _name_.

She spent hours at the Ministry accomplishing all she needed to. As she left, she had just one last order of business to attend to. She prayed that he would be willing to speak with her. She stepped into a private room with a fireplace and utilized a small bit of floo powder. She cast it onto the coals and waited.

Headmaster of Hogwarts, one Albus Dumbledore, appeared in the flames. “Mrs. Malfoy,” he said, happily. She could hear some underlying tension in his voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

"It's Miss Black, now. I'm no longer married and I'm no longer a part of the Malfoy family." She offered. "I'd like to come and speak with you if you'd permit it. I have, I have a lot to discuss with you."

“So I gather. You can floo to my office here at Hogwarts if you like.”

“I would like that a lot, actually,” she said back. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Soon she was sitting, sipping a nice green herbal tea across the desk from the wizened old Headmaster. “I suppose I’ll come right out with it,” she said, setting her tea down. “I owe you an apology.” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “My husband was a wicked, wicked man. And though I never took any sort of loyalty vows or pledged myself to his cause, I’m not completely innocent of aiding the Dark Lord.” She sighed and lowered her head. “Lucius did many things in Voldemort’s name.” She shook her head. “And I never did anything to stop him.”

“You were in love with him, Narcissa. That-,” Dumbledore offered.

She cut him off. “I was never in love with Lucius. I was in love with the _idea_ of being in love with him. When I first met him he was so confident, so… _strong_. But I quickly realized that he wasn’t confident. He wasn’t strong. He was quite the opposite, in fact. He was a coward. He bent a knee to Voldemort because he was afraid of him. He feared the Dark Lord.”

“For good reason. Voldemort isn’t someone to be trifled with.” Dumbledore stated. “If you are of no use to him, then he does away with you. Often quite violently and terribly. He turns those that displease him into a message.”

“Much like what Rita did to my late husband. Voldemort isn’t the only one that can send a message.” It really bothered Dumbledore that the woman made the statement with a smile.

“You don’t seem overly disheartened that your husband is dead.”

“Because I’m not. My heart has been prepared for Lucius to wind up dead for a long time. When you lie in a pit of scorpions, eventually, you’re going to get stung. And for a decade and more, Lucius had made himself right at home.” She shook her head. “I’ve no tears to shed for the man. Nor am I of a mind to.”

“So you’re done with Lucius. What of Draco. He is still your son.” Dumbledore said.

“Just because he left my womb, does not make him my son. He is too much like his father. He is a Malfoy through and through. His father left him means to support himself. Draco will be as he wishes. I’ll have no part of him. My sole purpose now is to provide Harry with a loving family. A family that was denied him because of men like Lucius.”

Dumbledore could see that the woman was speaking from the heart. He did, however, still have one elephant in the room that needed addressing. “I’ve been given to understand that you and Harry shared some rather… _intimate_ contact.” At Narcissa’s growing smile, he frowned. “You don’t find that to be somewhat improper? Harry’s still just a boy.”

“Harry Potter is more of a man that just about any _man_ I know,” she said, matter of fact. “Name me one so-called _man_ that has been through what he has. That has faced as many challenges as he has. That has been forced to grow up and mature as quickly as he has.” She shook her head. “You can’t. No one can. The way I see it, Harry Potter stopped being ‘just a boy’ a long, _long_ time ago. Nearly facing death more times than he cares to remember has a tendency to do that.”  Her grin then turned avarice. “And as Rita would be wont to say; he sure as hell doesn’t make love like one.”

“It is true you wish for Harry to…?” It was obvious the question was awkward for him.

“Impregnate me?” Narcissa asked. She rested a hand on her stomach. “I would like that more than anything. Rita cannot bear children. And while I’m still able, I’m willing to give him a child that he can be proud of. A child that’ll be raised to carry on the Black family name.”

Dumbledore could not believe what he was hearing. He wasn’t sure how to respond to the revelation.

“There is another reason that I wished to talk to you. I’d like to return home. To my family’s home. If I’m to make up for a decade of horrible choices, I need to go back to the beginning.”

Dumbledore stared intently at her. “Your husband was among Voldemort’s inner circle.”

“That’s exactly right, he was.” She smiled.  “And can you _imagine_ the wealth of information I possess? All of which I'm not only willing but _eager_ to share. The sooner Voldemort is dead, the sooner Harry can get on with his life. The sooner our family can be reunited and begin living as we should, not as we must.”

“Before I make a decision, I wish to speak with someone. As soon as I have, I’ll visit you at Malfoy Manor.”

Narcissa nodded and rose to her feet. “Thank you for the tea. I’ll be looking forward to your visit.” With that, she stepped into the fireplace and vanished.

Dumbledore watched her leave and rose to his feet. He had taken precautions since having to hunt Harry and  Rita down previously. The small bell on his shelf chimed once when either or both Harry and Rita left the castle and twice when they returned. Earlier in the morning, just after the incident with Draco in the great hall, the bell tolled for their departure. A few hours later, it signaled their arrival back to the school. Neither put in appearances at class. He wasn’t necessarily surprised. At this point, he was grateful Harry bothered to show up at school at all.

He left his office and glided through the halls to the Gryffindor dorm. He wasn’t so foolish as to believe that they’d be apart. He was happily greeted with the pair relaxing on the sofa idly chatting. Harry sat with his back against the arm of the couch. Rita had her head laying on the opposing armrest with her bare feet in Harry’s lap. He was rubbing her feet contentedly. Both of them turned to regard Dumbledore as he entered. “Good afternoon, Headmaster,” Harry said, smiling.

“Harry. Rita.” He returned, moving to take a seat in one of the armchairs. “Rather comfortable, this.” He said, settling in. “Narcissa Black came to see me not long ago.”

“That didn’t take long.” Rita offered, grinning. “What did she have to say?”

“She wishes to reclaim her name and her home. She wants access to Grimmauld Place.” He looked directly at Rita. “I want to know to what extent you altered her perception.” He paused a moment. “Can she be trusted?”

“Well, _Harry_ can trust her. She fanatically loyal to _him_. Not sure about the rest of you.”

“Can you elaborate, please?”

"I basically made her so devoted to Harry that she'd die for him. She, like me, wants nothing more than for him to happy. He wants a family because it's something that Harry's never really had. So now she's trying to mend bridges with Sirius to do that. She wants Voldemort destroyed because he's after Harry. She hated her husband because he served Voldemort. And she hates Draco because he thinks, acts, and looks like his father."

“So we can safely allow her into the Order of the Phoenix?” Dumbledore asked her.

“She’s a font of knowledge on Voldemort’s inner circle. Probably knows more than anyone. Snape included. I mean, you might wanna keep what _you_ are planning a secret. And if Harry asks her not to pry, she won’t. She’ll pretty much do whatever he says.” Through all of this, Harry remained silent. He just kept rubbing his wife’s feet.

Dumbledore noticed this and turned to the boy. “What are your thoughts on this, Harry?”

“She could possibly be carrying my child, Headmaster.”

Rita nodded her head. “Oh, she is. I made sure of that. Nine months or so, you’re gonna be a daddy.”

Harry beamed at her. He then gazed happily at Dumbledore. “Since she’s the mother of my child, I think it would only be fair to allow her to come home.”

The wizened old wizard was dumbfounded. “Forgive me for saying this but…” He shook his head. “Have either of you no conscience? No sense of just plain decency?” He stood up and began pacing. “For the love of all things holy.” He whirled back on them. “You more than persuaded, you outright _dominated_ a terrified woman into murdering her husband and disowning her only begotten son. A son, I might add, she thought the world of. Then, to pour salt in the proverbial wound, you _impregnated her_ as her husband’s body grew cold in the parlor.” He paled as he spoke. “That’s, that’s beyond even what _Voldemort_ is capable of.”

“Shit. Voldemort couldn’t approach what I’m capable of on his worst day, but that’s very much beside the point.” She shook her head. “And I didn’t mentally _dominate_ her. I’m not saying I didn’t rearrange things a touch, but I didn’t rip her free will out with an ice cream scoop and pour something else in. Everything she did? The desire to do it was already there. I just fanned the embers into a blaze. Make no mistake, I could have just made her mine and Harry’s bitch, but I didn’t need to. When I was digging around in her head, I saw the truth. Narcissa was with Lucius because she enjoys being submissive. She _needs_ someone to basically tell her what to do. She doesn’t wanna be a slave, per se. But she does want to be important to someone. She wants to matter to them. And she didn’t feel like she _mattered_ to Lucius. At least not as much as his station, his reputation, his money, his political connections, and his service to Voldemort. She had to take a backseat to all of that and it was pissing her off. I just brought all that anger to the forefront. But it was all already there. Since Lucius wasn’t giving her the attention she wanted, she tried getting it from Draco. She doted on him nonstop. But as he got older, he likewise began cutting mommy dearest out of his thoughts. He started acting like daddy.” Rita turned to Harry. “I just gave her what she wanted. A man that gives a shit and will give her everything she craves and needs. In turn, she’s giving him the child both she and him want.” She looked back to Dumbledore. “I’m not as callous as you think I am.”

“Harry? What do you think about this? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

He sighed and continued working on Rita’s feet. For several seconds, he said nothing. He lifted his wife’s feet and planted a kiss upon the soles of each, earning a playful giggle and a bit of a twitch. “You know,” Harry stopped a moment and pursed his lips. “I’ve spent the past four years being scared. Scared of going home, scared of coming to school. Scared to go to sleep, scared when I’m awake.” He leaned back and looked up at Dumbledore. “The day I decided that I was going to stop being the wizarding world’s puppet, I stopped being afraid. When I finally made a decision for myself, I stopped being afraid.” He went back to rubbing her feet. He popped her toes one by one, earning subtle moans with each _crack_. “There’s a laundry list of people that have hurt me or have tried. And for years, I’ve never been able to do anything about it. Either because I wasn’t strong enough, or I was too afraid of the consequences.” He shook his head. “I don’t have that concern any longer.” He patted Rita’s foot. “Because of my beautiful and extremely powerful wife, I don’t have to worry about it. Together, we’re as near as makes no difference invincible and unstoppable.” He turned and looked at Dumbledore. “I’m still going to save the world. Not because I should or because _you_ want me to. I’m going to do it because Voldemort hurt me. He’s hurt people I love. He took pleasure from torturing me. So I’m going to take my time with him. Even if all I can do is stand by while my wife tears him apart, I’m okay with that.” He sighed again. “To answer your initial question, Headmaster?” He stared directly into Dumbledore’s eyes. “No. I have no conscience left. Thanks all that I’ve endured, learning that no one gives a toss about me so long as I keep my mouth shut and do what I’m told, I don’t have it me to give a shit about anyone but those that are close to me. Beyond my small circle of loved ones, I don’t care anymore. They can all die for all I care. Narcissa is our mistress and the mother of my child. So I love her and will keep her safe and close.” He stopped speaking and went back to her feet.

Dumbledore listened and felt sick. Harry had always been so caring, so compassionate. He’d taken on risks just to save lives. Because it was just the _right thing to do_. But it seemed, now, that boy was gone. Replaced with this…young man. “I see.” He offered. It was all he could think to say. “So I should let Narcissa know?”

Harry nodded. Rita responded. “It’s only fair, given what she brings to the table and what she means to Harry.”

Dumbledore stared at the boy a moment longer, then left. He’d lost. Not the battle with Voldemort. That was still raging full force. But he’d lost Harry. Not so long ago, Harry respected Dumbledore. He loved him. He looked up to him for advice, for leadership and guidance. He looked to Dumbledore for answers. And the old wizard had them, to be sure. He just never shared what he knew. He was afraid of what the information would mean – would _do_ – to the boy. He sought to always protect him. But he was forced to face the harsh reality that Harry had grown up. He didn’t _need_ protecting anymore. He needed support. And in Rita, he had that and more.

With defeat on his face and in his heart, Dumbledore returned to his office. He had an address to provide…to the mother of Harry Potter’s child.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Narcissa appeared near to her destination with the telltale _crack_ that accompanied apparation. She let out a sigh and nodded. She looked at the Black family home and couldn’t help but be disheartened. The paint on the front of the house was dingy, cracked, and peeling. The wood trim was weathered and rotten. The brick and mortar were dirty from lack of maintenance and care.

She remembered in her youth when the home shined with the prominence of the Black family name. It was a vision of splendor and old-world class.

Now, however, it seemed very much to have gone the way of her family’s legacy. Tarnished, nearly to the point of being unrecognizable. Everyone looking upon it would be disgusted by the state of things. But as Narcissa looked on, she couldn’t help but notice that the house still stood. Steadfast against the thunder, wind, and rain. While the surface was abused and tainted, the _foundation_ , what made house Black what it was, remained. It still stood strong, defiant against that which would seek to destroy it.

“Just needs a lot of hard work,” she said to herself. With that, Narcissa Black strode to the front door of her family home and knocked. She didn’t have to wait long for someone to answer.

For the first time in nearly twenty years, Narcissa looked upon the face of her cousin. Their eyes met and they stared at each other for who knows how long. “Narcissa,” Sirius said, his tone filled with false civility. “You’re looking… _well_.” He paused, running his eyes up and down her form. “All things considered.”

She continued to look at him a moment longer before she stepped forward and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “It’s good to see you again, Sirius. I knew you couldn’t do it. I _knew_.” She drew back and again held his eyes. “I know you capable of a lot of things, but you’re no murderer.”

He was somewhat surprised by the reaction. While he and Narcissa never had any bad words to say to one another, nor were they particularly close. When he left the family to make his own way at age sixteen, Narcissa voiced no concern or support. She had nothing to say on the subject. Ever was she on the… _frigid_ side. But even though they were only ever neutral to each other, he would never expect her to embrace him as she would a long lost friend. He gave her a genuine smile and stepped aside, allowing her in. “I assume I don’t need to give you the tour.” He offered.

She noticed immediately that, while some progress had been made, the house was still in desperate need of repair. “It has been a long time.” She responded. She turned to look at him. “I have to say this. Lucius was a man of…questionable integrity and low moral character. It was not my choice to wed him, as you well know.”

Sirius nodded. He _did_ know. Most of the women in the Black family were married off, willing or not, to prominent pureblood men of meaningful social standing. And while yes, Narcissa didn’t necessarily object to the union with Lucius, nor did she wholly approve of it. She was angered that it wasn’t her choice. But, as with most women of their line, she simply kept her mouth shut and did what was expected of her. Because that was what good girls do.

Narcissa went on. “While I admit, I did, for a time, believe in Lucius’ ideals of blood purity, I _never_ supported Voldemort’s line of thinking. I never wished to go to his extremes. I, I can’t really say for certain if Lucius did or not. But all of the things he did, all of the choices he made brought the Malfoy name low. And due to my vows to him, the Black name was further tarnished by being drug down with him.” She sighed heavily.

“Lucius wasn’t the only one dragging the Black name down.” Sirius frowned. “I didn’t bloody help matters.”

“What you did, Sirius?” She rested her hands on his shoulders. “Was the bravest and most selfless thing I’d ever seen. Of all of us, _you_ deserve to carry on the Black name.”

He gave his cousin a bright smile. He patted her hand. “Thank you, Narcissa. That means a lot.”

“Together, we’re going to reclaim our name and our place in wizarding society. Harry deserves a family. He’s already got a good start with his loving wife. He’ll also have us to help him along the way.”

 Sirius nodded. “Indeed he shall.”

 

Severus Snape paced back and forth in his office. He was completely beside himself. He once again, for what must have been the dozenth time, looked over the letter Narcissa had sent to her son. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

He’d sent a letter via owl to her yesterday morning, demanding to meet with her. By the end of classes, he still hadn’t gotten a response. He tried initiating a floo call, but it, like the letter, went unanswered.

He’d hardly slept the night before. Now it was nearing the end of the day, and he still hadn’t heard word one from the woman. That really concerned him. He’d known both Lucius and Narcissa for a very long time. They weren’t exactly what one would call friends, they were at the very least amicable. They all respected each other and often shared an agreeable greeting when meeting in public.

He would have liked to think that, if Narcissa was going to cut ties with her family in such a broad and public fashion, she’d have said something to him. If for no other reason than he’s the head of her son’s house and the news would _clearly_ affect his well-being and academic performance.

But she’d said nothing to him. He was still pacing when an owl rushed in through the small open window and deposited a letter on his desk, before flitting off. He snatched it up and noticed Narcissa’s scrawling handwriting. He tore it open and quickly read it.

 

Meet me at my family’s home.

 

Narcissa Black

 

He found her phrasing to be a touch bizarre but didn’t contemplate it overmuch. He wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip away. He swept from his office, walked quickly through the school and out the front doors. He wandered down the hill, past Hagrid’s cabin. The large man was outside, milling about. “Evenin’ Professor Snape,” Hagrid offered, waving.

Snape gave the half-giant and amicable nod. “Hagrid,” he said, calmly. Secretly, Snape actually liked the oafish groundskeeper. He was very, _very_ good with animals. And he had a gift for brewing the best tea in Scotland, possibly the whole of the British Isles. More than once has Snape popped in for a cup and a bit of conversation. Hagrid was a simple man but his heart was always in the right place. There didn’t seem to be a vindictive bone in his body. It was refreshing, given the company that he had been forced to keep over the years.

Of course, he’d never admit this to anyone. But he honestly believed that most staffers felt that way about the large man. And like him, none of them, save Dumbledore would be likely to cop to it.

He walked past the ramshackle cottage and around the lake. When he made it far enough from the school, he concentrated and apparated away. In a heartbeat, he appeared in front of Malfoy Manor. He was somewhat surprised to see the home completely dark. He glided up to the front door and rang the doorbell. He was further concerned when he didn’t hear the bellowing of Lucius’ two large boarhounds. The house was eerily silent. He peered in windows to see nothing stirring. He sighed and turned away from the domicile, his brow furled. He paused and pulled the letter out, reading it once again.

After a moment, his eyes widened. “She can’t mean…” _My family’s home_ , he thought. _Narcissa_ Black. He let out a breath and once again apparated.

This time he appeared in an alleyway near 12 Grimmauld Place. He quickly trotted to the front door of the townhouse and rapped sharply. A moment later, he was greeted by the former lady Malfoy. “Hello, Severus,” she offered with a smile. “Care for a spot of tea?”

“We need to talk,” Snape said, moving past her to stand in the foyer. He glared down at her.

Narcissa calmly shut the door and moved toward the kitchen. “We’re just sitting down for tea. Care for some?” She made it a handful of paces before his hard grip on her arm stayed her. For her part, she did stop. She looked down at his hand and slowly lifted her angry eyes to him. “Need I remind you, Severus, that you are in house Black. _My_ house. You _will_ unhand me.”

Realizing that he’d overstepped, he pulled his hand back immediately. “Young Draco is beside himself. Your letter nearly destroyed him.”

“That sounds very much like a personal dilemma.” Narcissa shook her head. “I’ve washed my hands of him. He’s been left with the means to support himself, should he live modestly. I see no need to do any more for him.”

“He’s your son, Narcissa,” Snape said.

“No. Not anymore, he’s not.” She shot back. “He was _Lucius’_ son. And much like his father, he’s an embarrassment to the Black family name. I’ve already had to suffer through Lucius squandering my family’s fortune and sullying my good name. I’ll not suffer through it again.”

Snape couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. For as long as he’d know the Malfoy’s Narcissa had put Draco above all else. Anything the boy wanted, she provided without hesitation. He’d always been her pride and joy. And now, seemingly overnight, she wanted nothing to do with him and had renounced the Malfoy name in its entirety. It made absolutely no sense to him. “Why exactly did you come back here?”

“This is my family’s house. If I’m going to repair the damage done to the Black family name and reputation, there is no better place to start.” She returned.

“You have no family left. Sirius is a fugitive and Bellatrix is insane and probably hasn’t a clue what day it even is. What _exactly_ is left of the Black family name that is even salvageable?”

“Sirius can be cleared, Severus. And I also plan on attempting to mend bridges with my sister, Andromeda. We’ve not spoken in years,” she sighed and lowered her eyes. “Much to my shame.”

“But why the sudden change of heart? Why _now_?” He asked her. “There was, you said nothing to anyone. Like a bolt from the blue, your husband is dead and Draco is left with no home and no family.” He shook his head. “This isn’t like you, Narcissa. Not one bloody bit.”

“People change, Severus.” She slowly shook her head. “But Malfoy’s, it seems, do not.”

“Not that suddenly, Narcissa. You loved Draco and you loved Lucius.” He stepped closer to her. “You can’t just shut that away. I know. I’ve tried.”

“Some are just better at it than others, I guess.” She turned away from him and once again moved toward the kitchen. “The tea is getting cold. Come on if you’re joining us.”

He watched her walk away and growled low in his throat before responding. “Some other time.” He stormed out of the house, angrily. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. It just plain didn’t make sense to him. It didn’t add up. Something happened to her to shift her perception. He would be quick to blame the Imperius Curse, but he knew it didn’t function that way. He once again called upon his powers of apparation and was back at Hogwarts in a flash and a _crack_. He needed to speak with someone about this. And he knew just the man to talk to.

Headmaster Dumbledore watched as Severus Snape entered his office. It was obvious that the man was distraught. “Severus? What seems to be the matter?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve been made aware or not,” The Potions Master tossed the letter on the old man’s deck. “Narcissa sent this to Draco not long ago. He’s been beside himself ever since.”

Dumbledore lifted it and glanced over it. “Yes, I know. She came and spoke with me earlier.” He put it down. “Harry agreed to let her come home.”

“And you don’t find that odd?” Snape asked, angrily.

“Not considering what has transpired in the last forty-eight hours.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and considered what to tell the younger Professor. From Snape’s line of questioning, it was obvious Narcissa didn’t share much with him. Nor did anyone else. He knew that if he said too much, Snape, impulsive as he was, would storm off to confront Harry’s loving wife. And if that meeting went south, he would quickly find himself with yet, _another_ teaching position to fill.

But, with that said, Snape did deserve to know, at least in part, the truth. “The night Lucius died, Rita and Harry visited Malfoy Manor.”

Snape snarled. “I _knew_ it! I knew that little bitch had something to do with it!”

“Before you do something rash, I want you to calm down and think,” Dumbledore commanded.

Snape did just that. He remembered that, despite the innocent little display of a sixth-year student Rita put on, it was far from the truth. He’d seen her _true_ form. And he was _not_ eager to see it again. But he did want to speak with her about it. He wanted to know what she’d done, and why. “I promise I won’t do anything… _regrettable_.” With that, he was gone from Dumbledore’s office.

He was surprised to find Rita alone in the Slytherin common room of all places, sitting on the sofa and staring at the fire. She had a glass in her hand filled with rich, dark liquid. “Professor,” she said, not looking up.

“What are you drinking?” He asked her.

“Macallan Scotch,” she said lifting it up to look at it. “Six hundred and twenty-eight thousand dollars a bottle.” She reached down beside her on the sofa and lifted the decanter. “Care for a glass? It’s rather nice, to be honest.”

He was about to lecture her on underage drinking when he stopped himself. He honestly had no earthly idea how old she actually was. “I don’t have a glass.”

She snapped her fingers. A crystal cup similar to hers sat on the table beside her booted feet. “Sure you do.” She leaned forward and filled it halfway. “Ice?” She asked him.

“Sure.” There was a small splash as ice cubes appeared in the glass. He lifted it and saluted her before taking a sip. “Very nice,” he said, appreciatively. He took a seat in the armchair and regarded her. “I’d have thought you’d be with Harry somewhere sneaking a snog.”

She shrugged. “He’s doing his homework.” She chuckled. “And I’m a distraction.” She sipped her scotch. “He’s not wrong. When I’m with him I can’t keep my hands to myself. So I’m giving him the evening.”

Snape nodded. It made sense. “I need to speak with you about Narcissa.”

Rita grinned widely. “ _That_ was a fun night.”

“What did you to do her?” Snape asked her. 

“Nothing she didn’t already secretly want to do.” Rita offered. She looked at him. “I didn’t just roll over her mind. All I did was give her a push. Just the confidence to do what she’d been wanting to do for a long time.”

“I’m fairly certain she didn’t want to disown her only son,” Snape said.

“I gotta admit, _that one_ shocked me.”

“Are you telling me you had nothing to do with it?” Snape asked. “I find that hard to believe.”

“And _I_ find I don’t give a shit what you believe. Truth is this, Nosferatu; I just snuck around in her head and fanned the flames of anger she had for her husband. She’d resented him for a long time for what he was doing with her family’s money and how badly his association with Voldemort was sullying the Black name. Now granted, it _was_ my plan for her to kill Lucius. I’ll cop to urging her toward _that_ end. But the rest of it? Disowning Draco, wanting Harry to put a baby in her?” She shook her head.

“Wait a minute. _What_?”

“Oh, yeah. Narcissa Black is pregnant with my husband’s baby.” Rita grinned. “You have no idea how fun _that_ was to watch. Got me nice and wet.”

He frowned at her. “You forced Harry to impregnate a widow moments after she murdered her husband?”

“I didn’t force him to do anything. He didn’t need any prompting, believe me. He was _all_ for it.” She chuckled. “You could see it with how hard he was fucking the shit out of her.”

“That’s depraved.”

She sighed and sat up, setting her glass on the table and looked intently at him. “I’m laying it all out on the table for you, bud. I know you’re playing both sides. You’re feeding Dumbledore just enough so he trusts you and you’re feeding Voldemort just enough so you don’t have to die screaming staring at pieces of yourself. I get it. Rock and a hard case. Doin’ the best with what hand you’re dealt. That’s fine. I won’t tell anyone. But I _am_ going bring Voldemort down. But I’m gonna make him suffer before I do it. When I finally have him on his knees in front of me, he’ll be alone, powerless, and _scared_. When I’ve taken absolutely everything from him, he’s going to _beg_ me to kill him. Because he fucked with my husband.”

“And how are you going to do that?” Snape asked her. “He’s immortal. He’s died before.”

“He has a Horcrux.” She said, leaning back. “Knowing how paranoid he is, he probably has several. I’ve been perusing the restricted section of the library. Didn’t really take me long to find.” He wasn’t exactly shocked by the news. “You find those, you destroy him. I plan on doing that before I face him. But before I can do _that_ , I’ve got add a few more decorations to the Ministry’s lobby.”

Snape stared at her long and hard. “Can you really destroy him?”

Rita looked at him. She could hear something in his voice. Hope, maybe? “What did he do to you?” She asked him. “He hurt you, somehow.”

Snape lowered his head and stared into the caramel-colored fluid in his glass. “He tore my heart from my chest, despite vowing to me that he would not.” He took a long pull. “He killed the woman I love.”

“Harry’s mother?” She asked him.

He snapped his eyes to her, questioning. “How could you possibly know that?”

“It’s kind of obvious.” She gave him a smirk. “And because I can recognize Harry’s father when I see him.”

Snape’s eyes widened in absolute shock. “How-?”

“James had brown hair, hazel eyes, and a fairly round face.” She shook her head. “You don’t. Harry has black hair,” she pointed to Snape’s mop of unruly locks. “Green eyes,” she pointed then to Snape’s. “And a slender face,” she motioned around his cheeks and chin. “And he has your and Lily’s nose.”  Snape just continued to stare at her. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna tell him.”

He rose shakily to his feet, slugged down his drink and left the room in a hurry. She watched him go and chuckled, leaning back in her seat. She couldn’t help but smile. Things were going so very well.


	18. Chapter 18

Snow covered the ground outside. But inside 12 Grimmauld Place, things were much, _much_ warmer. Rita lay on her back, her fingers laced in Narcissa Black’s long sweatsoaked blonde locks. The woman’s tongue lapped hungrily at Rita’s swollen pussy. She moaned heavily into the younger girl’s sex.

Harry was on his knees behind the elder witch. His hands pressed to her hips, pulling her back as he drove himself forward. He buried his cock deep inside her with every stroke. It was an absolutely fantastic feeling. Narcissa’s body was nearly untouched. He didn’t understand it. _Why would Lucius not only deny his wife this but deny_ himself _this? She’s a beautiful woman with an insatiable appetite._ He looked down at the woman’s back and ran his hands over her soft skin. He bent over and wrapped his arms around her waist. He reveled in the feel of her. It had been over a month since their first night together.

And nearly every night Harry and Rita had spent it with the woman. In that time, Rita had also added five more bodies to what she’d dubbed her ‘tree of woe’ in the Ministry of Magic’s lobby. Theodore Nott’s father, Rita hadn’t bothered learning his name. Given he died screaming incoherently and not actually speaking, she didn’t really garner much of an opportunity. She also added both Vincent Crabbe’s parents as well as Gregory Goyle’s folks. Neither of the boys’ mothers were marked Death Eaters but she didn’t exactly give a shit. Both women knew what their men were involved in. That made them culpable as far as she was concerned. Yes, she could say the same of Narcissa but there was an inherent difference between the former Malfoy matriarch and the other two; she had _uses_ for Narcissa. The others were just grist for her particular mill.

Not the least of which was the woman's obvious tongue skills. It surprised Rita that the elder woman was not only willing but _able_ to lick pussy as well as she did. Granted, she’d probably be even better at it if she weren’t being distracted by Harry’s dick buried balls deep in her snatch. She didn’t mind, though. Her husband was having the time of his life. He absolutely _loved_ fucking Narcissa. Almost as much as he enjoyed her.

Harry thrust in one final time and released. Once again, Narcissa’s spasming pussy was bathed in his cum. She cried out and fell flat to the bed, breathing heavily. Her body shuddered as the orgasm she was experiencing finished washing through her. Rita sighed and reached down, bringing herself to climax.

Harry shook his head and motioned her closer. She patted Narcissa on the head and rolled to the side. As soon as she neared him, he pulled her in and kissed her passionately. He then shoved two fingers into her wet pussy. She let out a moan and threw her arms around his neck. He worked his hand quickly bringing her to orgasm. She quaked against him, enjoying the feeling.

But obviously, her husband wasn't finished with her. He moved her to arm's length, turned her around and shoved her onto the bed. Her face landed within inches of Narcissa’s swollen vulva. “Lick her,” he said, sternly.

Rita absolutely _loved_ when Harry took charge like this. Neither of them forgot for a moment who the true dominant force in the relationship was. But moments like this, she didn’t mind giving up the control. She scooted forward a touch and lapped at the elder woman’s velvet lips. Narcissa gave a whimper but moved her legs further apart to give the girl access.

Rita suddenly cried out in ecstasy as Harry shoved his cock into her still quivering channel. It took all of her concentration to keep her face planted in Narcissa’s drenched sex.

Harry hammered into his wife for several minutes, causing her to moan sensually into Narcissa’s pussy. The scene, the sound, and the sensation was all it took for him to release once again.

He collapsed forward on his wife’s back, resting his head on her back between her shoulder blades. “I think I pulled something,” he said, chuckling.

"I'm not surprised," Rita said, drawing her head back. She licked her lips and planted a firm kiss on Narcissa’s soft bottom. “I hate to talk shop while we’re in such a glorious position but…”

“You wish another name to add to your tree?” Narcissa asked, sniggering. She’d been an absolute _font_ of information and had offered the Order of the Phoenix quite a bit. But what she told them was nothing compared to what she’d shared with the father of her baby’s wife. “If you wish to strike a significant blow, you can always remove his connection to some of his foot soldiers.” She rolled onto her back, resting her head on her arm.

“I’m liking the sound of-,” She stopped and drew in a deep breath as she felt Harry starting to grow firm within her again. He flexed, causing his penis to jump inside her. She turned to look at Harry over her shoulder. “Stop that,” she said with a smile. “I’m working, here.”

“Well hurry up because I’m trying to work you _over_ , here.” He responded with a grin.

Rita sighed and looked back at Narcissa, who was smiling widely. “Somedays, I swear.”

“The virtues of youth,” she said, happily. “Fenrir Greyback is key to keeping the werewolves under Voldemort’s influence. Remove him, you remove _them_.”

Rita let out a half-moan, half-groan as Harry again flexed inside her. “Christ, boy,” she said, shaking her head. It earned her a bit of a chuckle from both Harry and Narcissa. “Do you know where I can find him?” She asked. She listened as Narcissa explained. “Thank you.” She fell onto the bed as Harry once again went at her in earnest.

 

She showered, donned a pair of snug jeans, a sleeveless shirt, black motorcycle boots and a black leather jacket. She pulled Harry in for a searing hot kiss and offered one to Narcissa. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Good luck,” Narcissa said. “It isn’t the full moon, so he won’t be a werewolf. That’s a small mercy. But have a care. Even in his human form, he can still infect you.” She caressed Rita’s cheek with her thumb. “You’ve got a child to help raise. So be wary.”

Rita genuinely appreciated Narcissa’s concern. It was honestly nice to hear. Besides her and Harry, no one she’d met since taking up with Mojo had ever truly given a shit about her aside from what she could do for them or what she could give them. She didn’t, however, have the heart to tell the woman that Fenrir posed absolutely no threat to her. “I’ll be careful,” she said, doing her best to assuage the woman’s fears.

Harry then stepped up and smiled at her. “Have fun.” He kissed her intently.

“Oh, I plan to.” She responded. “See you later.” She stepped back from the pair and was gone in a flash.

Narcissa shook her head. “It still amazes me that she can do that. And at her age.” She sighed and turned to Harry. “Come. Let me make you something to eat.”

Harry smiled and followed behind her, enjoying the sway of her hips as he did so.

 

Rita appeared in a darkened alley deep in the heart of London. It was an older section of the city, free of the trappings of modern industry and construction. Gothic architecture abounded. She knelt on the rooftop of the brownstone and patiently watched the foot traffic below. She’d know her target when she saw him. When Narcissa explained this area – and more appropriately who mostly resided here – she was immediately intrigued. The werewolf community seemed to be fairly close-knit, from what she could see.

Finally, she found the one she sought. He walked along, chatting happily with two others. She smiled, rose, and stepped off the edge of the building. She dropped to the ground in front of the trio in a crouch. She slowly stood, smiling at the three of them. “Good evening, gentlemen. Nice night for a hunt, don’t you think?”

“Who the hell are you?” Fenrir asked, looking her up and down.

For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, her voice filled with her own inner power, she spoke. “I will fill your mountains with the dead. Your hills, your valleys, and your streams filled with people slaughtered by the sword. I will make you desolate forever. Then, and _only_ then, will you know,” She grinned like a skull. “That I am _God_.” Her words, her voice, sent shivers along each of their spines.

His companions immediately backed away from the woman. But Fenrir, despite his better judgment, held his ground. “I am a werewolf. I fear nothing.”

“I know,” she said, still smiling. “But soon, my dear, _dear_ Greyback, before your time in this world is done, and you’re _begging me_ to kill you, to end your torment you will learn that I am not something to fear.” She began walking toward him. “I _am_ fear.”

He snarled and lunged at her, drawing his hands back, looking to lash her with his razor sharp nails.

Rita stepped forward and delivered a hard punch directly to the center of his chest. His momentum ceased as his sternum shattered like glass. He was hurled backward, knocking his compatriots to the ground as he continued on to slam into the side of a dumpster. The metal warped violently. He crumpled to the ground, dazed.

The men with him watched the display and tried to run. They made it barely three paces before they were frozen in place. “You are not who I am here for,” she said, stepping between them. “Go away.” She flicked her wrist. The werewolves sailed into the air and toward the horizon. She knew not where they would land, nor did she care. She only had eyes for one man.

Fenrir, fighting past the pain in his chest, rose to his feet. He had to brace himself on the edge of the bin. “What…what _are_ you?” He asked, his voice tight.

"Annoyed with your boss,” she said to him. “You’re on Voldemort’s payroll. You do his dirty work.” She gripped his throat and lifted him effortlessly from the ground. “Since you’re so willing to die in his name, I’m gonna make sure you get the opportunity. But not before you send a message for me.”

“I’m not willing to die for him,” Fenrir shot back. “I don’t even like him. I just hate the way my wolves are treated.”

She snorted. “And you think under his rule you’re gonna be treated any better?” She turned and threw him across the alley to crash into the brick wall. “Wake up, you stupid son of a bitch. When the smoke clears, he’s gonna get rid of you and your mangy pack.”

“He respects us. He respects our power, what we can do.” Again, he was rising to his feet.

“Only as long as you’re useful.” Rita shook her head. “But once he’s conquered everything, once he has control of everything, where does that leave you? Voldemort’s gonna make the wizarding world pure, _untainted_. I ask again, Greyback. Where in the hell does that leave you and your people?” She once again stalked toward him. “Nowhere. It’ll leave you as little save cannon fodder.” She whipped her hand out and held her palm open. He was shoved against the wall and held there, spread eagle. “He’s counting on most of you dying out in the war to come. He knows that the Ministry and the public at large isn’t going to just roll over. He knows they’re going to fight back.” She leaned in and stared into his eyes. “And who do you think he’s gonna have manning the front lines? His Death Eaters? His trusted lieutenants?” She shook her head again. “No. It’s gonna be you. His pack of wild dogs. You’re just grist for the mill, Greyback. And what’s worse is you _know_ I’m right.” She cocked her head. “Don’t you?”

“So what? So what if you’re right? The hell does it matter? Werewolves are second and third class no matter who’s in charge. Six in one hand, half dozen in the other. Makes no difference to me and mine.”

“Oh, it does make a difference, fleabag. If you hadn’t thrown your lot in with Voldemort?” She grinned once more. "You wouldn't be in for a horrible and painful night." She drew him forward and drove his head back against the wall, causing him to blackout. 

Fenrir awoke in a darkened room. He could immediately tell that he was bound tightly with incredibly thick chains. He tried to force them but saw it was fruitless.

“Ah, good.” He heard her voice from behind him. “You’re awake.” Her footsteps drew closer. “I’ve been looking you over while you slept. Learned quite a bit about your physiology. Drew some blood, took some hair samples.” She finally stepped around in front of him. His eyes went wide. Gone was the shapely blonde, replaced with the bizarre six-armed form of Spiral.

“What the hell-?”

“Back to this again, are we?” She asked him. “Call me Spiral.” She offered. “You werewolves are an interesting breed. You have a lot of… _useful_ gifts.” She walked calmly to a table covered various decanters, blades, and tools of torture. Fenrir would have found it quite interesting…if they weren’t set to be used on him. “Regeneration I’d only seen twice before.” She lifted a wicked serrated blade. “What do you suppose would happen if I severed a limb? Would it grow back?”

He just stared at her, defiant. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a response. Suddenly, her commanding voice filled his mind. _Answer me!_ His mouth moved of its own accord. “I don’t know. I’ve never lost a limb.”

She grinned and stepped over to him. “Let’s find out, shall we?” She moved around and knelt behind him. She took hold of the middle finger on his right hand and, with a deliberate slowness, sawed it off. It, of course, bled profusely. He growled low in his throat but offered nothing else. She tossed the digit aside and watched as the skin rapidly grew over the bloodied stump. “Well, that was interesting.” She stood and wiped her blood on his coat. “It _doesn’t_ grow back.”

“You better hope I don’t-,” He stopped talking as she gripped his jaw with her metallic hand.

"Don't threaten me, mongrel." She cocked her head and pursed her lips. "In fact, I don't think I want you talking anymore at all. She reached into his mouth and with gloved fingers, pulled his tongue further out. While holding his mouth open with two hands, she got a firmer grip on his tongue…and yanked it free. Flesh tore and blood sprayed from the back of his throat. He screamed incoherently in agonizing pain. She released him and tossed the piece of meat away. “There we go.”

He sat there whimpering. Blood dripped from his mouth. He’d never felt pain such as this.

Spiral was whistling as she moved back over to the table. “You know,” she began as she looked at the bottles and beakers. “Where I come from, vampires and werewolves are pretty resilient. Cuts, breaks, bruises, things like that? They heal pretty quickly. Seconds, for some.” She turned to look at him. “Kinda like you.” She returned to her task. “But there are some things they don’t heal from. Our werewolves aren’t too fond of silver. And vampires? Fire and holy water leave scars. But my read in the landscape is you and yours don’t give two shits about silver. Different, to be sure, but we can work with that.” She lifted a container of clear liquid. “I’m eager to test something, though. What exactly are the limits of _your_ regenerative abilities, hmm?” She poured a bit of the liquid into what looked like a bottle with an eye-dropper. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit of a science nerd. I like learning how the body works.” She turned and looked at him, smiling happily. “I’ve never had a chance to play with someone like you, before.”

He snarled and gnashed his teeth. He tried to speak but his words came out as little save an unintelligible mess.

“I thought we agreed no talking,” She said, frowning. She clamped her hand down on his forehead and bent him back, his face now staring at the ceiling. She held up the small bottle. “This is concentrated sulphuric acid. That probably doesn’t mean anything to you. You’re a wizard. Most of you are actually pretty stupid, all things considered. But what this will do is basically eat a hole right through you.” She saw the fear in his eyes and he began trying to move but her hand held him fast. “Now, the question on my mind is can you regenerate faster than this can eat it’s way to your brain?” She offered a mock shiver. “Ooh, I’m _so_ excited to find out, aren’t you? I mean, we’re on the verge of a scientific breakthrough, here!” She unscrewed the dropper from the top of the bottle while two hands held his head, another pair of her hands held his eye open. “This stuff is really potent, so…” she hovered it just above his eye and squeezed. “A little dab’ll do ya,” she said, cheerfully. The effects were immediate. In an instant, the liquid splashed onto his eye and began sizzling. He screamed loudly and flailed as much as he was able. His eyeball began dissolving under the caustic fluid. She kept the eye open a moment longer, then repeated the procedure with his other.

She moved away and watched him thrash about in pain. She looked at her watch and timed how long it took him to stop. “Eight minutes. Not bad. Thought it would be quicker.” She shrugged. “But hey, that’s what science is all about, right? Discovery.” She moved over and tipped his head back. His eyelids were red and raw and melted together. She remorselessly pried them open to peer into his sockets. They were both a burnt, bloody, gooey mess. “Yeesh. Clear eyes is gonna have its work cut out for it.” She moved over and lifted two bottles, one brown, one clear from the table. “We wanna make sure you don’t get infected.” She again opened his eyes and poured the contents from the brown bottle in. It immediately began foaming up. Fenrir again screamed. His voice was raspy and hoarse. “Oh, quit bellyaching. This is just hydrogen peroxide. It doesn’t hurt you pussy.” She waited a moment, wiped the socket clean, then poured in some of the liquid from the clear bottle. Fenrir’s screams turned shrill. Blood trickled from his mouth as his larynx tore, his shrieks were so loud. “This is rubbing alcohol. I don’t blame you for screaming at this. This shit hurts but it’s necessary. Safety first.”

She finished with him and went back to the table, leaving him there whimpering. He’d thought that Voldemort was the most depraved and evil person he’d ever met. He himself often attacked children, for no better reason than to create more of his kind.

But this… _Spiral_ woman was, she was another beast entirely. She seemed almost giddy at what she was doing.

And he learned that his night was just getting started.

As he finally slipped loose the mortal coil – staring at pieces of himself – he realized that she was right partially. Spiral wasn’t just someone or something to fear. But, he admitted, nor was she _fear_. She went beyond that. Spiral…was _pain_. She was the living embodiment of torment, of agony. She offered tortures that would wound the soul, and she did it with almost a sensual joy. It seemed almost as an aphrodisiac for the woman.

Rita stood in the main lobby of the ministry as morning business was picking up, looking up at Fenrir Greyback’s wolfen form. It had been an easy thing, forcing his change. He was hideous as a werewolf. But while she did torture him for amusement, so too did she study him. She learned from him and she had begun creating something from him that would benefit the most important man in her life. She turned and left. When she reached the door, she snapped her fingers and the people, once frozen in place, went about their business. She’d just heard the first blood-curdling scream when she stepped out onto the busy London street.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first section of this chapter was inspired by MeJA, one of my more avid fans. His pearls of wisdom and advice have gotten me through many a dry spell. So here's to you, bud. Hope you enjoy it.

Draco sat on the edge of his bed, continuing to stare at the letter he’d received months ago. Christmas break was upon him…and he had nowhere to go. He was forced to stay at Hogwarts as the rest of his chums returned home. Not that he cared any longer. Even his fellow Slytherins had taken to avoiding him. Crabbe and Goyle had both been pulled from school to go and live with relatives abroad after their parents were killed and hung for all to see in the lobby of the ministry. He’d received a letter from Vincent saying he was attending school in America. Gregory, it seemed, had fallen off the face of the earth. He thought he had heard the boy say something about family in Australia but he wasn’t entirely sure. He’d never listened to either boy with more than half an ear.

The only student that seemed to stay by his side was Pansy Parkinson. She’d owled her parents, asking if she could remain at Hogwarts for the break but they refused, demanding that she come home.

Now, he sat alone in the Slytherin dorms. None of his fellow students remained. He felt hot tears slide down his cheeks. He wiped the moisture from his face and folded the letter up, placing it in his pocket. He rose to his feet and pulled his Potions supplies from his trunk. He then left the dorm, making his way silently through the school. He passed no one as he climbed the stairs toward the Astronomy tower.

He pushed open the trap door and moved out onto the parapet. He stood in the midday sun in the ankle deep snow and drew in a breath. The cold bite of the air permeated his lungs. He tipped his head back and let the sun beat down on him for a moment. He then stepped to the edge of the tower, placing his pack on the stone balustrade. He unrolled the leather and pulled the sharp knife from among the implements.

He pulled his robe free and set it neatly on the ledge beside him. He rolled his sleeves up and looked at his slim, pale wrists. He’d made the decision to end his own life a few days ago. It was sealed when Pansy received her response from her parents. She cried that she didn’t want to leave him but she had no choice. He understood and harbored no resentment. A parting kiss and a promise to return was all the comfort she could give him.

He sighed and sat in the cold, wet snow against the edge of the tower. The method he’d chosen was quite mundane, he knew but he wanted at least _something_ about his passing to be memorable. And dying amid a pool of his own blood with his wrists cut would definitely be talked about for years to come. He lifted his right arm and stared at the blue veins beneath the skin. He nodded and bit his lip. He pressed the edge of the knife to his flesh and cut a deep furrow across. Blood immediately began pooling on his skin and dripping onto the snow. He quickly followed suit with his left wrist. He was surprised that it didn’t hurt worse.

He dropped the knife and leaned his head back against the stone and stared off into the distance. He could feel the cold of the day starting to seep in. _Northern Scotland sure is cold in the winter_ , he thought to himself. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there. He was growing colder and colder. His teeth began to chatter. He was getting rather tired.

“Draco, Draco, Draco.” He heard an amused female voice. He lifted his eyes to see someone he definitely hadn’t expected. Rita stood, framed in the glowing midday sun, staring down at him with a bemused look on her face. “You truly are a wretched creature, aren’t you?” She knelt and tore two strips of cloth from his robe. She gingerly wrapped them about his bleeding wrists. “Pathetic,” she said, chuckling.

“Don’t…touch me, _mudblood_.” He snapped, weakly.

“Not your call, brat.” She returned, shaking her head. “Can’t have you dying on me.”

“Why? It’s what I want.” Draco said, angrily.

“Maybe. But I don’t care,” she said as she tightened the ersatz bandages. She knelt and lifted him effortlessly from the ground. In a flash, she stood with him in the medical wing of Hogwarts. She rested him on the bed and sat beside him.

“Why do you care what happens to me? You’ve already taken everything from me.” Draco said as he began crying.

“Oh, now we both know that isn’t true.” She caressed the blonde hair from his face. “You still have your health, you still have your name. And you still have that darling little thing, Pansy.”

 "You leave her alone," Draco commanded. "You go near her I'll-," 

She pressed her hand to his mouth. “Don’t. You will do nothing because you _can_ do nothing. But take heart. I'm not going to take her away from you." She leaned down and whispered into his ear. "I didn't save you because I care, Draco. This is not some display of compassion or altruism. No. This is because you have a lot to answer for. You've made my husband's time here miserable. Your family has done so much to Harry. And I want your suffering to go on…and on, and on. Until _I_ decide you’ve had enough. And you know what will make it even more enjoyable for me?” Rita asked as she gently caressed the tears from Draco’s face. “The fact that your own mother will be by mine Harry’s side, laughing at you, mocking you as you weep, begging me to hurt you just a little more,” she leaned in and dragged her tongue along his cheek, tasting the saltiness of his tears. “With a surprise for you that you’ll _never_ guess is coming.”  She then leaned back and pressed her palm to his head. “But I can’t have you ending your life prematurely. Not until I’ve had my fun. The desire to kill yourself will always be there. But I don’t think I’ll let you act on it.” She reached into his mind and played her game. “And now you won’t be able to.”

Draco stared at her, angrily. “I’ll find a way to kill you.” He said, softly. “Mark my words, you filthy mudblood.”

"Good luck with that," Rita said, rising to her feet. She saw Madam Pomfrey rushing toward them in a panic. “Get well soon, Draco.”

She vanished in a flash, leaving him to sob on the bed.

 

Having put Draco out of her mind, Rita appeared in the Potions dungeon and pulled the beaker of blood derivative that she’d initially taken from Fenir Greyback. She went about utilizing the rather incredible setup Snape had put together to finalize her concoction.

“What are you doing in here?” Snape’s irritated voice called from the door that led to his office and quarters.

“Working on something. What does it look like?” Rita responded not bothering to look at him.

“I can see that,” Snape offered, moving beside her.

“If you could see what I was doing, why bother asking?” She responded. She added a few drops of this and that from the various other vials she had in her jacket. “Besides, your lab is more extensive than mine.” Snape narrowed his eyes when he looked at the initial beaker she’d pulled out. He lifted it from the table. “Don’t spill that. It’s rather hard to come by.”

“Is this blood?” He asked her, swishing it about in the glass.

“Yeah. Werewolf’s blood. More precisely Fenir Greyback’s blood. I drained few pints from him before I tortured him to death.”

Snape immediately set the container down and looked at her. “And you felt that him dying in screaming agony was necessary?”

“The torture was necessary, yes. I needed to understand the limits of his physiology. The screaming was just a bonus.” Rita offered, not looking at him.

“Did you learn anything? Besides his unnatural vocal range?” Snape asked, looking everything over. He wasn’t asking out of concern. He had absolutely _no_ love for werewolves and their ilk.

“I did, actually. His regenerative capabilities are _incredibly fascinating_." She pulled out a spiral-bound notebook. "That's all my research if you wanna check it out. I wrote everything down.”

He lifted it and began flipping through it. “This is rather extensive.” He said, visibly impressed. “What are you doing?” He asked her.

“Isolating specific properties of the lycanthrope affliction. More precisely the genetic markers that provide their rapid regeneration, superior physicality, and superior senses. I’m weeding out the markers that reduce the host to basic instinct and aggression.”

He stared at her with a look of pure surprise. Finally, he asked, "You can do that?" 

“Just need a little time.” She returned. “When I’m done, I plan on administering this to Harry.”

“You’re going to infect him with lycanthrope?” Snape asked, suddenly worried.

“Yes and no.” Rita turned to look at him. “He’ll carry the strain, but he won’t be able to infect anyone else, won’t change form but _will_ have all of the benefits. It’ll give him regenerative abilities second to none, make him physically stronger than Hagrid, immune to nearly every form of disease, and heighten his senses.” She went back to work.

Snape looked over her shoulder. “How is it you know how to do all of this?”

“I’m not what I appear to be, remember?” She asked him.

He gave a nod. He remembered quite well her true form. “Will you have more than one dose of this when all is said and done?” He asked her.

She smiled. “Got you curious, have I?” She asked him.

“Quite.” He responded.

"I should have a few. I also plan on giving it to Remus. If my research is right, it should allow him to control his change at will, make it less painful and stressful, and keep all of his faculties intact. It should also allow him the ability to speak while in his hybrid state.”

“That’s amazing,” Snape said. “Do you need any assistance?”

“Sure.” Rita returned, smiling.

 

Harry and Narcissa both sat on the bed while Rita prepared the syringes. “And you’re sure those won’t harm the baby?” The woman asked again.

"Yes, I'm sure," Rita said. She wiped the blonde's right bicep with an alcohol pad and gingerly pushed the needle in. The red fluid slid in easily. Once the syringe was empty, she pulled it free and pressed a cotton ball to the site. "Hold that there a second." Narcissa did as she was instructed. Rita tossed the needle in the trash can and pulled a band-aid out and placed it over the spot. “It should take effect within the next half hour or so."

Narcissa nodded and watched as the girl did the same to Harry. She noticed that Harry’s injection seemed a bit darker and thicker. “Why does his look different than mine?”

"Different concentration," Rita said. She motioned to Narcissa’s stomach. “I made allowances for the little bun in your oven. The baby’s immune system isn’t up to snuff just yet. So it'll metabolize things differently. Yeah, it's being filtered through you but still, don't wanna take any chances. When they're born, they'll have sharp senses and be able to heal quite quickly." She leaned in and pecked Narcissa on the lips. “Just like their mama.”

She woman smiled brightly. Harry watched the exchange and was excited. He was a touch apprehensive but all in all, he was thrilled. He felt the prick of the needle and watched as the liquid flowed into his arm. She applied a bandage as she had for Narcissa. “There we are. Give it a little bit and you should notice a difference.”

She lifted the last syringe she’d prepared. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go shank a werewolf.” She left the room the pair shared and headed down the stairs toward the kitchen. She pushed the door open to see Sirius and Remus sitting at the table conversing.

“Good afternoon, Rita,” Sirius said, smiling. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“A gift,” she said as she moved over to Remus.

“What are you doing?” The werewolf asked her.

"Just relax," she wrapped her arm about his head to hold it steady and slid the needle into the side of his neck. She depressed the plunger and drained the syringe fully into his flesh. "With your metabolism, you should notice the effects immediately." She said as she backed away from him. 

“What did you- _aaaagghhh_!” Remus fell from his chair, dropping to the floor.

“Took less time than I thought.” She said, stepping back.

“What’s happening to him?” Sirius asked, rising to his feet.

"He's changing," Rita said. “Give him a few minutes.”

Sirius had seen it before. It was normally a violent and painful process. His friend, when the change was upon him, would cry out in pain and anguish. Instead, Remus simply rested on his hands and knees, breathing heavily as thick hair sprouted over his lithe form. His clothing tore and fell from him as his body contorted. Slowly, Remus gripped the edge of the table and rose to his feet. “Hmm,” he offered in a deep, gravelly voice. “Nowhere near as unpleasant as it has been.” He looked down at his furry hands. “What is it?” He asked, looking at Rita.

“It’s something I was working on for Harry. It’s derived from Fenir Greyback’s hematin. I isolated certain genetic markers to be wholly beneficial.” She motioned to him. “You should be able to transform at will. And when you do, this will be your mental state.”

He stared at her with a look of utter shock. “And…what about offspring?” He asked her.

She could hear the hope in his voice. “You won’t transfer your lycanthrope, no. What happens in Lupin stays in Lupin.”

The werewolf grinned at her. It would have been a very disturbing sight if she hadn’t known there was genuine happiness behind it. He pulled her in and hugged her tightly. He smelled like wet dog but she didn’t mind. Harry cared for the tall, gangly man. That meant he was special to her by proxy.

She pulled back and looked up into his eyes. "You might wanna get some clothes before you try turning back. Otherwise, Sirius is going to have to see the full Lupin.”

“Quite right.” He said, happily.

Harry entered the kitchen as Remus was leaving. “Never realized just how tall he was when he was transformed.”

“Well no, I suspect not. The last time you saw him in that state he was hunched over and chasing you manically.” Sirius offered. “Not a lot of opportunity to be appraising of his physique.”

Rita snorted. “That was funny.”

Harry likewise laughed. “He seemed quite happy.”

“Your wife is a wonderful woman, Harry.” Sirius looked about. “Where is my cousin?”

“She’s upstairs in our room,” Harry said as he moved to the refrigerator. “She was hungry and asked if I’d get her something to eat.” He pulled a Red Baron Canadian Bacon pizza from the freezer and set about preparing it in the oven.

"Ah, the pregnant cravings," Sirius said, taking his seat. Of all of those that had learned of Narcissa’s current condition, Sirius was the only one to be genuinely happy for the pair of them. He found it incredible that Rita had allowed such a thing. When he’d learned that she wouldn’t be able to give Harry a child, he felt devastated for her. But she then shared what they’d done…and he found it to be absolutely hilarious. Turning the woman against her own husband and child was sheer genius as far as he was concerned. It couldn’t – wouldn’t happen – to nicer people.

The world was just a bit brighter for the Malfoy family’s destruction and the reunification of the family Black.


	20. Chapter 20

Winter Break was fantastic for Harry. He’d spent the entirety of the break at Grimmauld place with his wife, his Godfather, the now _very_ pregnant mother of his child, and one of his dearest friends. Given how very physical he, Rita, and Narcissa were with each other, he’d even managed to trim down a little bit, despite the constant flow of cakes, fudges, and candies Molly Weasley had plied them all with.

He felt for Narcissa as the woman experienced horrible bouts of morning sickness. Time and again, she assured him that it was nothing and she’d wholly expected it. She would always take his hand, rest it upon her slowly growing stomach and declare it a small price to pay for giving her such a wonderful gift. The only regret she had ever voiced was that of Rita not being able to bear Harry’s children. It would have been wonderful, in her estimation, if they could give him two loving children instead of just one.

It was a heartening thing to hear.

But for all of that, he was rather glad to be back at Hogwarts. In truth, he could come and go pretty much as he pleased, thanks to his wife. Rita had filled him in on what she caught Draco Malfoy trying to do. He wasn’t aware of what she’d done as a result of his attempt on his own life, he only knew she stopped him from doing so. As he entered the Great Hall with Rita beside him, he looked over at the boy.

Draco looked truly pitiful. There seemed to be a miasma about him now. None of his fellow students seemed to want to be near him. There was a rather significant gap between him and the other Slytherins. The only of his classmates that sat with him was Pansy Parkinson. She sat with her hand on his arm, speaking softly to him.

While Harry shared no love for the young man, he did somewhat feel bad for him. He knew what it was to be ostracized. He’d spent the entirety of the summer in complete isolation. He couldn’t speak to anyone that he cared about. He was left alone in the Dursley home with no contact whatsoever. So he could sympathize with how Draco felt. He wanted to offer some sort of comfort to him but quickly thought better of it. He was fairly certain that Draco would just say something rude or stupid and anger him. Harry didn’t need his first act back to Hogwarts to be pounding Draco Malfoy rotten. It was obvious the blonde had enough problems.

He turned his attention away from the Slytherin table and to his fellow Gryffindors. He sat down opposite Hermione and Ginny. Ron was already present, digging into a plate of sausages and pancakes. Harry greeted everyone happily as he sat down. They idly talked while they ate, telling each other about their winter breaks.  

Rita was surprised when an owl dropped a letter into her lap. “You don’t get post,” Harry said, likewise surprised.

"No. No, I don't." She offered. She lifted the envelope and opened it. She furled her brow as she read it and turned toward the Ravenclaw table.

“What does it say?” Harry asked.

She handed it to him. “Don’t read it out loud,” she said to him.

Harry did as she instructed and read it quietly to himself.

 

Please meet me on the shore of the lake after classes today. Come alone. I have something to discuss with you.

 

Signed, Luna Lovegood

 

Harry, much like Rita, was shocked by the letter. He had to admit, though he didn’t know Luna all that well, he didn’t see her as the type to send such a thing.

“What is it, Rita?” Hermione asked. “What does it say?”

"Don't worry about," Rita responded, folding the letter and stuffing it into her pocket. "It's nothing bad," she said in an effort to placate the girl. 

Satisfied with that answer, Hermione went back to chatting with Ron and Harry. Rita, however, stole glances at Luna. The girl gave her nothing to go on. She did return her gaze once and offered a sweet smile. It boggled Rita’s mind. _What could she possibly want?_

For the rest of the day, she puzzled it over. They hadn’t had much interaction but Rita honestly liked Luna. The girl seemed flakier that filo dough but she was a genuinely good kid. So being basically _called out_ like she was made Rita’s head spin.

The only reprieve she got from her thoughts was watching Dolores Umbridge move stiffly about the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She couldn’t help but grin. It has been months since Rita had altered the blood quills Umbridge insisted on the students using. She’d been careful and made certain that the curse she’d used left Umbridge’s plump, toad-like face unaffected. But each morning, Umbridge awoke in pain as, while she slept, the words the blood quills wrote etched themselves in _her_ body instead of the students. She would never understand what was happening to her as, in her mind’s eye, nothing was wrong. She was simply in pain. But the rest of her, by now, would have been literally _covered_ in scars. And since that day, she’d seen the woman’s condition deteriorate. The smile never left her face all through class.

Harry stood by the front doors as Rita approached. “You sure you don’t want me coming with you?” He asked her.

She lifted her brow. “Um…why?” She asked. “I’ll grant Luna’s fairly unpredictable but I don’t see her wanting to throw down.”

“Maybe it wasn’t sent by Luna. Maybe it was sent by someone else just using her name.” Harry responded.

Rita had actually thought about that but summarily dismissed it. It wasn’t that she thought it impossible. It most certainly was but the _probability_ of it was highly suspect. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m not exactly sweating any of the students or staff around here.”

He leaned in and kissed her. “Be careful just the same.”

“I will.” She gave him one last smile and left the school. She could have teleported but it was a nice day, despite there being nearly a foot of snow on the ground. It wasn’t long before she saw the blonde standing, bundled up, tossing stones out onto the frozen lake. The rocks skipped across the ice, making a rather peculiar sound as they did so.

Luna turned and grinned as Rita approached. “Hello, Rita.” She said, softly.

The elder woman pulled the letter out and held it up. “Talk.” She said, sharply.

If her tone bothered Luna, the girl showed no sign of it. She took the post and looked at it. “I was rather dramatic, wasn’t I?” She looked Rita in the eye. “I know what you did to Ginny Weasley in the bathroom.”

Rita searched her face, dissected her tone. From everything she could tell, Luna wasn’t being accusatory or spiteful in any way. For all the conviction behind the words, she could have been remarking on the woman’s choice of sundae toppings. “How?”

Luna turned back to the lake. “Moaning Myrtle and I speak rather often. We’re quite fond of each other. I listen to her woes, in turn, she keeps me very informed on the happenings around Hogwarts.” She gave Rita a coy, blushing smile. “She watched the pair of you. She described it to me in rather graphic detail.”

Rita remained impassive. “Harry better not find out.” Her tone left no room for negotiation. She didn’t voice the _If he does…_ portion of the threat.

“He won’t. At least not from Myrtle and not from me.” Luna offered. She faced Rita full on and stepped closer. “ _If_ you do something for me.”

Rita was about to comment on how she hated to be blackmailed and could _easily_ see to it that both Luna and the whining spirit never said a word. But something stopped her. She was actually curious as to what Luna would ask of her. “What do you want?”

Luna leaned in and pecked Rita on the lips softly. “I want you to do to me what you did to her.”

To say Rita Potter was shocked was quite possibly the understatement of the century. For the first time she could remember, she was stricken speechless. She definitely did _not_ like being thrown like this. She quickly recovered and leaned in, her face but a hair’s breadth from that of the smaller girl. “Is that what you really want, Luna? When I finished with Ginny she was left bawling on the bathroom floor cursing me from the very pits of her soul.” Her hand shot out, snatching the petite blonde’s robes. “I made her my toy, little girl. At the end of the day, she was just another cunt to fuck. Is that what you really wanna be?”

Luna stared into Rita’s eyes. Where Ginny’s emerald greens were filled with fear and hatred, Luna’s were sky blue and filled with nothing but wanton lust and desire. _Girl really does wanna get the shit fucked out of her_ , Rita thought.

“Myrtle explained that Ginny was moaning and enjoying herself, despite how fervently she tried to fend you off,” Luna said, smirking. “I want to feel that. Even though you do somewhat frighten me, I’ve found no one else that I would be willing to let ravage me in that fashion. If I am to be taken as I truly wish to,” she shook her head. “No one else will do.”

Rita couldn’t help but chuckle. She pulled Luna in and plundered the girl’s mouth with her tongue. Luna melted into it immediately. After pair pulled apart, Luna smiled up at her. “I’ll be what you need me to be, whenever you need it, Rita.” She offered whimsically.

“I think I like the way that sounds, little one.” She took the younger girl’s hand. “But not here. If we’re going to do this, I want us to be comfortable. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right back.” Luna nodded. “I’ll be waiting.” Rita vanished, leaving Luna alone on the shore of the lake. The girl went back to absently tossing stones out onto the ice. Despite the cold, her lower region was very, _very_ warm.

She didn’t have to wait long. Rita was back after only a few minutes. “Are you ready?” At Luna’s enthusiastic nod, she pulled the girl in and once again teleported away. They appeared in an extremely nice hotel room.

Luna looked around, mesmerized. “Where are we?” She asked.

“This is the room Harry and were sharing the night we met," Rita said, smiling. “This is where we made love for the first time.”

“And now you’re going to do the same to me,” Luna said, turning to look at her companion.

“Me making love to you isn’t what you wanted, remember?” Rita said, moving over to take Luna’s robes off. “I certainly didn’t _make love_ to Ginny Weasley.” She cast the garments aside and began unbuttoning the dark green sweater that the young Ravenclaw wore. “If that sniveling spirit explained in detail what I did to the Weasley brat, you would know that. You should know you’re in for one hell of an experience.” She got Luna down to her bra and leggings. “But I’m not going to do to you _exactly_ what I did to her.” She could see the touch of sadness on Luna’s face. “Because all of my lovers deserve a more… _personal_ experience when they’re with me.” She slid her hand down into Luna’s underwear and slid her finger through her heated lips, smiling at the excitement she found. “I’m particular that way.”

Luna Lovegood let out a very, _very_ deep sensual moan. She pushed Luna back onto the bed and dropped to her knees. She removed the boots, leaving the woman’s socks where they were. She quickly pulled the tight hose down long slim legs. She was greeted with a pair of black silk panties. “Somebody definitely wanted to impress.” She returned.

“Would you settle for anything less than silk?” Luna said.

Without a word, Rita slid the underwear off and was greeted with a small patch of blonde curls. She personally loved a little bit of hair on her pussy. She leaned in, easing her tongue slowly along Luna’s slick folds. As it had every time before, the sensual contact brought a deep moan from the Ravenclaw. She spread her legs further, giving Rita all the access she could want. And she wasn’t disappointed. The beautiful villainess was a _Goddess_ in the arena of lovemaking, and she was proving it now. Luna’s body was aflame with passion as Rita’s tongue danced over her heated pussy. She gasped as she felt the welcome intrusion of a finger. “God almighty,” she said, breathlessly.

Rita didn’t speak. She really didn’t need to. She let her hands and lips do the talking. In short order, she had Luna squirming all over the bed. She felt the first climax as Luna’s pussy quivered around her finger. But she wasn’t done. She pressed a second finger in and began nibbling the girl’s swollen clit. It made her happy that she could elicit such a response. Given that she’d brought many, _many_ women to the brink of insanity, she was incredibly comfortable here. She quickly learned Luna’s body and began playing her like a finely tuned instrument. And such beautiful music the slender blonde made.

After the first orgasm, another quickly built. She began bucking on the bed. Rita felt Luna’s pussy relax and decided to take a chance. She withdrew and tucked her thumb in beside her fingers and began easing her hand into her lover’s saturated channel. When she met resistance, she stopped, not wishing to hurt her.

Luna’s mouth was open in a silent scream. It was the first time the blonde had tried such a thing. Her body clenched as she felt her pussy stretching to its limit. She felt smaller orgasms ripple through her, rapid-fire as Rita eased her hand fully into her. “Be gentle, Rita,” She said, her voice cracking.

“ _Now_ you want gentility?” Rita asked, amused. She had no intention of just pounding away at the young girl. Despite how Luna touted that she wanted to be used, she planned on making this an experience that the girl wouldn’t forget but also not have any regret over. Tearing the girl’s uterus in two would definitely be a bad thing. “Do you want me to stop?” She asked.

“Don’t you dare!” Luna snapped. “Just…slowly.”

Rita nodded and gingerly pushed a little at a time. Luna’s voice rose in octave as she moaned. Finally, with the utmost care, the larger woman’s hand slid fully inside her lover. The tightness around her wrist was incredible. The sight of Luna writhing about on the bed caused her own heat to rise. She remained patient. She was certain Luna was going to reciprocate. Luna for her part was an absolute hot mess. Her body fell limp. She just clenched her eyes shut and rode the orgasms as they rolled through her. She simply shuddered and trembled. Her breath was coming in labored gasps.

But Rita wasn’t done torturing her sex-addled lover just yet. She began subtly shifting her hand about. Luna rested her hands on her stomach. She could feel Rita’s hand inside her. She whimpered pitifully. She lifted her legs and rested her feet on the edge of the bed. “I’m yours, Rita.” She lifted her head and looked down at the powerful Slytherin. “Use me,” she said, softly. “Please.”

Rita grinned and ran two fingers from her left hand through the wetness around her wrist. She then slid them into Luna’s puckering ass. She was greeted with a lustful moaning scream. She worked her fingers in and out as she began pulling her fist partially out of Luna’s pussy onto to push it back in. The sight of her lover so thoroughly enraptured caused her to orgasm alongside.

Luna had never, in her entire life, felt a sensation such as this. She didn’t even think such a thing was possible. She’d masturbated before. In her depravity, she and Myrtle had shared some very intimate moments. She’d learned that the long-dead student was just as odd as she was. Moaning Myrtle was one of the only two friends Luna had. 

But nothing the ghost had done for her could compare to this. Every part of her tingled and trembled. She was in a state of pure orgasmic bliss. At that moment, Rita owned her. The woman was her life, her core. She would forever be addicted to what the elder girl could do. “Make me cum again for you, Rita,” Luna said, weakly.

Nodding, she quickened her pace. Luna’s body rocked violently. She locked her eyes with that of her lover. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she repeated over and over again. It was a surprising thing to hear from the petite little blonde.

Rita smiled as Luna again shook. Luna’s eyes suddenly went glassy and rolled back in her head. She fell limp on the bed. Her breathing was deep and even. She stopped working her hands and lifted up a little, grinning. “Well, that’s a first.” With the utmost care, she extracted her hand from Luna’s still quivering pussy. She licked her hand clean as she pulled her fingers from the girl’s ass.

She rose to her feet and looked at her handiwork. Luna was out cold. Every once in a while a shudder would work through her. Not wanting to disturb her, Rita stood, staring at her as she slid her own fingers deep into her dripping cunt. She moaned as she began mauling her breast with her other hand. She stared down at her unconscious bed partner and couldn’t help but feel somewhat dirty for what she was doing. Luna’s lean, taut body fueled Rita’s fire. “God, you _are_ gonna be fun,” she said as she came, hard. She felt the wetness drench her hand. She slid onto the bed and reached out with her mind. _Harry, love?_ She asked him.

_Rita? Where are you? What did Luna want?_

_It’s…complicated_ , Rita offered. _Tell me…do you find Luna attractive?_

As Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room with Hermione, Ginny, and Ron, he wasn’t sure how to answer that…


	21. Chapter 21

Harry lay back on the bed, his head spinning. His breathing came in labored gasps. He wasn’t exactly sure when, along the line, he'd warranted such attention. Certainly, when he decided to leave England and move to the states, he never pictured himself here. He opened his eyes and looked about himself. 

Narcissa Black, the very pregnant mother of his child, lay soaked with sweat pressed against his right side. Her belly rubbed against his hip. He could feel the subtle shift of his baby within her. It was a rather peculiar sensation, he had to admit but it was also fascinating to him. He turned to look into her blissfully face. Her eyes were closed as she snored softly. How beautiful she was. When he’d seen her at the Quidditch Cup those years ago, he’d never appreciated just how much.

His eyes then drifted to the slight form of Luna Lovegood. Like Narcissa, the pale blonde was covered in a sheen of sweat. He was rather taken aback when Rita had asked him if he found the girl attractive those weeks ago. He’d never really thought about it much. Seeing her thin body naked and wanting nothing more than to please him and the other women in his life, he couldn’t help but be intrigued. The girl had been more than willing, she’d been _eager_ to surrender herself to both Narcissa _and_ his beloved wife.

Finally, he looked to his gorgeous bride. Rita lay, spooning Luna’s back. Her leg was thrown over that of the young Ravenclaw girl. Her right arm served as Luna’s pillow and her left arm rested across the petite blonde’s ribs, her hand settled on Harry’s chest. Like the other two, she was sound asleep.

To say that his life had drastically changed once the woman came into it would be an understatement of epic proportions. He couldn’t fool himself into believing that Spiral was a good person. She wasn’t. She was far from it. He also couldn’t fool himself into believing that her tendencies didn’t frighten him at times. But of her, he knew that she would do literally _anything_ to make him happy. She would give him everything he wanted…even if he wasn’t aware he wanted it.

The situation he found himself in at present was a perfect representation of that. He was surrounded by three incredibly beautiful women in the afterglow of a _tremendous_ night of intense lovemaking.

“You should be asleep, honey,” Rita said, her eyes still closed.

He smiled and looked at her as she opened them to return his gaze. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” He whispered to her.

She shook her head. “No,” she responded. She ran her hand along Luna’s soft side. “Time to send you back to school, lover.”

Luna turned to look at her with sleepy eyes. “Okay.” She pecked the older student on the lips and regarded Harry. “Thank you for having me, Harry,” she said, as she had every time before. She kissed him as well.

“Thank you for being here, Luna. I’ll see you at school.” He returned her kiss. In a flash, she was gone. She would no doubt be back to her bed, securely under her blankets in her dorm at Ravenclaw, sound asleep. Rita then snuggled in close to him.

“Quite the little minx in the sack, isn’t she?” Rita asked him. He chuckled and nodded. “I love you, you know.” She stared into his eyes.

“I get that impression,” Harry said, smiling. “What with the providing me with a harem and all.”

Rita pressed herself closer to him. She took hold of his left hand and brought it down between her legs. She wasn’t surprised when he immediately began manipulating her still sensitive apex. She moaned softly. “Tell me what you want, Harry and I’ll give it to you. I’d wrest the moon and the stars from the heavens if you asked it of me.”

He watched her impassioned reaction to his ministrations. “You already give me everything I want, Rita. Because of you, I have no fear, no pain, no sadness. I can live, I can love, I can be happy. You've become my life." He kissed her as he slowly brought her. "And because of that, I can _give you_ this.” He quickened his pace, earning even more noises from the girl. Since taking to each other, he’d learned _exactly_ how to coax her to orgasm with the merest of touches. So complete was his knowledge of her. It thrilled him to no end.

As she had so many times before, Rita felt the climax roll through her, sending a shudder up her spine. Her breathing came in deep gasps. She looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "I love you, Harry." 

He smiled softly at her. “I love you, too, Rita.”

“I think it’s time I start bringing the Ministry in off the bench,” She said after the last vestiges of her climax left her.

“What are you going to do?”

“First order of business is to get rid of Umbridge. I’ve had my fun with her. Now she’s just boring.”

Harry chuckled. “Pity. It was rather enjoyable watching her walk about in pain and not understanding why. But how are you going to be rid of her?”

Rita leaned in and kissed him. “I think it’s high time someone from the Ministry came and observed just how much of a bang-up job she’s doing as DADA Professor.”

“Who would you suggest?” Harry asked. “The entirety of the Wizengamot wanted to crucify me at the beginning of the year.”

“Not all of them,” Rita said. “There’s one woman in particular. Fair-minded and would be willing to see how Umbridge is treating the students in a vacuum. Especially given that she has something of a personal stake in how the children are educated.”

Harry furled his brow. “Who?”

“Susan Bones’ aunt, Amelia Bones. Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I think she needs to have a snap visit.”

Harry shrugged and nodded. “I trust you,” he said, kissing her.

She smiled at him. “Time for you to head back to school, baby. I’m gonna take a shower and get dressed. Give Narcissa a proper wake-up and goodbye and I'll send you home." 

He kissed her again. “Okay.” As she rose from the bed, he turned to the elder woman. “Narcissa?” He pecked her on the forehead.

She groaned in her sleep and fluttered her eyes open. She smiled at the sight of her baby’s father. “Hello, love.”

“I’ve got to go back to school soon.” He kissed her softly in her lips.

She gave him a nod. “Your education is important, dear.”

“But before I go,” Harry said, kissing his way down her neck, taking a moment to suckle briefly at each of her swollen nipples, earning a sensual coo from the woman. He moved further down, trailing his tongue lightly over her ever-swelling belly. She rolled onto her back as he eased between her legs. He lapped at her swollen lips. Her breath hitched as he licked eagerly.

“Harry, I’m still…” Her voice faltered and became naught but a long, low moan of ecstasy. Her back arched as he hungrily ate of her. His strong arms, once slender and wiry, now corded and muscular, wrapped about her plump thighs, drawing her closer to his wanting mouth. “Oh, Harry. I’m going to, I’m going to,” Her body tensed as the orgasm pushed through her.

As her back arched and the sensation reached its crescendo, Harry rose to his knees and pushed himself into her quivering pussy. Narcissa screamed as he made love to her. He lifted her legs and drove gently into her. She felt absolutely _wonderful_ like this. He knew he wouldn’t last long but given that she'd just climaxed, he didn't have to. With a final push, he released within her. She clenched at the bed sheets as he came inside her. He fell forward, resting himself on his hands, breathing heavily. He looked into her eyes as she stared back at him. Her face was flushed and her chest heaved. _She’s quite beautiful,_ he thought. “Thank you, Narcissa,” he said, softly.

She smiled lovingly at him. “You give me such wonderful gifts,” she offered, rubbing her stomach. “And you thank _me_?” She asked.

“For being a part of my family. For, for accepting me as you have.” He returned her smile.

Narcissa stared at him a moment longer, then pulled him down, nestling his head between her breasts. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” she said, suddenly tearful.

He was surprised by the move. “For what?” He asked her.

“You should have been the son I had.” She lifted his face to gaze at him. “It should have been you.”

Harry took her hands, giving them a soft squeeze. “Everything I’d done, everything I’d endured has led me here, now. In light of that, I’d suffer it all again if it meant having you, here, now.” He kissed her passionately. “We love you, Narcissa. What’s come before is as nothing. From here on, we can make a life together.” He moved down and kissed her stomach. “With our child.”

She couldn’t feel more loved at that moment if she tried. _Why did I waste so much time with Lucius_? She asked herself. She could feel, deep down that her sudden burning hatred of the man was somehow… _wrong_. She could tell, once upon a time that she loved him dearly and thought the world of him. It wasn’t until Rita and Harry came to her home those months ago that she felt truly embittered toward the Malfoy patriarch. But even knowing that, she wouldn’t have things any other way. Lucius had indeed squandered not only the family fortune but the Black family name. And she was determined to right what had since gone wrong.

While a social magnate, he carried the stigma of being a true follower of Voldemort. By proxy so did she and so did her son. He was as devout to the dark lord as was any of his inner circle. She believed in blood purity, true but she wasn’t so naïve as to believe that _only_ the ancient bloodlines should exist. It was so much so that he captured Voldemort’s attention shortly after they wed. And it was those reasons that she wished to distance herself from everything Lucius wrought, even their disappointing child.

She understood the dangers and weaknesses of in-breeding. The Black family tree was extensive. Very few, if any of the great families of Wizarding Britain didn’t have a Black somewhere in the lineage. But that said, she knew that, in order to maintain, while not the purest of lines, _strong_ genetics, one had to look outside the ancient houses. And often that meant marrying into the Muggle world.

Unlike her late husband who believed that blood was power, Narcissa believed that _power_ was power. Hogwarts was filled with half-bloods and Muggle-borns that showed great promise. Notably was Harry’s young friend Hermione Granger. While she knew little of the girl, she had heard that young Miss Granger was _incredibly_ gifted. And she wasn’t alone.

 

Rita sent Harry back to Hogwarts for his day of classes, made sure Narcissa had everything she needed and was comfortable, then made her way downstairs to the kitchen. Sirius and Remus both sat at the kitchen table, chatting idly. “Good morning, Rita,” Sirius said, smiling.

“It is at that,” she returned, pouring a cup of tea from the kettle. She turned and leaned against the counter. “I want someone to replace Dolores Umbridge as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Who would the pair of you suggest?” She asked as she sipped.

They stared at her, looked to each other, then back to her. “Um…how are you going to do that?” Remus asked her.

“Plausible deniability,” she said by way of explanation. “You don’t wanna know. Just know that she’ll be gone here, soon. I want a couple of names for a short list.”

“Well, to be honest Moony here was one of the best the school had to offer. Taught Harry the Patronus Charm his third year. That's quite a spell for a thirteen-year-old." 

Rita looked at him. “Can you?” She asked him.

He shook his head. “No. Being a werewolf, a public werewolf at that, I’m rather limited in my options. I can’t teach anymore.”

“That sucks. It isn’t casting. It’s about the best tool for the job.” She shrugged, letting the thought go. “Any other suggestions?”

“Alastor would be a good choice,” Sirius said, looking at Remus.

The other man shook his head again. “No. He’s too busy with the Order. What about Tonks?”

Sirius nodded and turned to Rita. “Nymphadora would be a good choice. She’s quite capable and would be able to connect with the students, I think. She’s not far removed from her graduation. She’s a bit on the clumsy side but overall she’d be a good fit.”

Rita nodded as she finished her tea. “Sounds like we’ve got a winner. I’ll be back in a bit. Got some business to attend to.”

“Where are you going?” Sirius asked her.

“Gotta visit the Ministry. Gotta talk to a woman about a school.” She pulled her leather jacket tighter about her and gave the pair a mock salute. “Later,” she said as she flashed away.

“I _really_ want to know how she does that,” Sirius said, taking a drink of his own tea.

“Indeed,” Remus agreed.

 

Rita entered the Ministry of Magic and couldn’t help but grin. In the center of the massive foyer hung a huge curtain. She knew full well what was behind it. She’d been adding to it for weeks. Murmurings and gossip abounded regarding her macabre creation. She moved past it to the large bank of elevators. She didn’t pay the security any mind as they didn’t even register her entrance.

She stepped into the lift and waited with her hands in her pockets. She leaned against the back wall and relaxed. She again smiled as she heard a pair of men, both clad in rather fanciful robes talking. “Oh, he’s quite beside himself. There’s talk of removing him from office if he doesn’t get to the bottom of it.”

“I don’t disagree with their assessment. It’s an eyesore. What’s more, it’s making him out to look like a laughing stock. The most powerful wizards in the country can’t remove the bodies. They’ve tried everything. He’s even resorted to asking Dumbledore for help.”

Rita raised an eyebrow at that.

“What did he say?”

“What do you think he said? He’s far too busy overseeing Hogwarts.”

The other man chuckled. “He told the Minister _no_? That takes brass.”

“I thought so, too. But he isn’t wrong. If the Minister can’t solve the problem, he doesn’t belong in the post.”

“Quite.”

She couldn’t help but smile smugly. Minister Fudge being put in the hot seat wasn’t exactly what she was aiming for but it was indeed a nice bonus. Neither man paid her any mind as they left the lift on the fourth floor. She continued on until she reached the second level. She exited and made her way along, looking for Amelia Bones’ office. She looked about and saw the young lady that Sirius and Remus had spoken of. Her vibrant pink hair looked good on her, to be honest. She was clad in the customary garb of the Aurors. _I’ll be talking to you later_ , she thought as she bypassed the Auror’s bullpen.

She made the woman’s office and didn’t bother knocking. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind her.

Amelia Bones sat behind her desk looking over a stack of parchments. She looked up with a frown as the girl entered her office unbidden. “I’m sorry, do you we have a meeting scheduled that I wasn’t aware of?”

“Yes, we need to meet. No, it wasn’t scheduled, but that doesn’t matter,” Rita said, taking a seat. “It’s important enough that you’ll want to hear what I have to say regardless.”

“Is that a fact?” Amelia asked, angrily.

"Yes," Rita said, crossing her arms. "How important is your niece to you, Miss Bones?"

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t we start with who you are?”

“A concerned third party.” Rita offered. Given that she’d wiped the memory of Harry’s trial from all of the Wizengamot’s minds, she wasn't surprised the woman didn't recognize her. "There are things going on at Hogwarts that, by the Ministry’s own hands, is just getting worse.” She pointed at the woman. “If you value your nieces’ education and well-being, _you_ need to do something about it.”

“Susan hasn’t said-,” She began.

"Because she's afraid to," Rita said, interrupting her. She leaned forward. “Dolores Umbridge is mentally falling apart. She’s terrorizing the students. I’m offering an olive branch, Miss Bones. I’m offering you the chance to do the right thing. You can save Miss Umbridge’s life. If you don’t step in…” She shook her head. “I can’t be responsible for what happens next.”

“What are you talking about?” Amelia was thoroughly confused. “You just breeze into my office and start making demands. Who in the hell do you think you are?”

Rita decided it was time to come clean. “Let’s just say I’m the one that has a knack for… _decorating_.” She offered with a smile. She could see the woman trying to suss things out.

“What do you mean, decorati-?” She stopped when the realization suddenly donned on her. “The atrium,” she said, her voice filled with horror.

“I trust my messages are getting through loud and clear?” Rita asked.

Amelia stared at her in open amazement. “I-I don’t believe you,” she said. Though her reaction told Rita that she believed every word.

She decided a small demonstration was in order. She stood and rose into the air, lightning arcing about her as her frame shifted to that of Spiral. Her silver hair danced on the wind. Her arms weaved a gossamer pattern with the electric magic. “Do you believe us now, Miss Bones?” She asked. “Your knowledge of the world is quite limited, woman. There are beings that possess power beyond even your comprehension. And we don’t like it when mortals threaten the world we so desperately try and protect. This… _Voldemort_ is such a mortal. He dabbles in arcane magicks human animals such as yourself ever never meant to wield. He is but a kitten playing at war with lions. And his end is assured. But we will _not_ allow the next generation of minds to be corrupted by the follies of the current. It is a small matter for us but no less significant. Dolores Umbridge is a _mortal_ problem. And as such, she _should_ be dealt with by mortal laws. You represent that mortal law. We are giving you the chance to do as your position states you should. Protect and serve, Miss Bones. Woe be to you if we must get involved.” She allowed her voice to sound as if dozens spoke at once.

Amelia stared at the entity with absolute terror. “Wh-what is your name?”

“We have many. You may call us Spiral,” she said, letting her voice boom. “And we are not pleased. We will destroy this Voldemort creature. We will continue to display his followers as a message to others. So is the price you pay for your hubris.” She glared at the stricken woman. “Heed our words, Amelia Bones. If we must seek you out again…” With that, she disappeared, leaving the woman staring at the empty space.

Her palms were sweating and her robes saturated. She could feel the electricity still hanging in the air. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm herself. She looked down at her desk…

There sat a small clear crystal statue of a dragon. As she peered at it, the eyes flashed. She bit her lip and rose, taking the dragon and setting on the shelf as far from her desk as possible. Her first instinct was the destroy it but she quickly thought better of it.

She then sat down and penned a letter to her niece. She needed to know the truth of the events at Hogwarts.


	22. Chapter 22

Dumbledore sat in his office, staring at the hearth along the wall. He lifted the letter he’d received from Amelia Bones and read it over once more. It was vague, telling him only that she would be visiting and to expect her in his office at the appointed time. He flicked his eyes to the large clock. To the second, the hearth erupted with green flame.

The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement stepped from the floo. She looked immaculate as always. She straightened her robes and hat out of habit and turned to the Headmaster. “Professor Dumbledore,” she said, courteously.

“Miss Bones.” He responded, rising to his feet. “Welcome to Hogwarts. Your letter offered little in the way of reasoning for your visit.”

“I wished for my inspection to be a surprise,” Amelia said, taking a seat in front of his desk.

“Inspection?” He asked.

“Let us dispense with formality, Albus,” she said, leaning forward. “We both know Cornelius is a dullard.”

Dumbledore continued to look at her and stayed carefully neutral. It wasn’t that he disagreed with the woman…because he most assuredly did. But he felt she wasn’t the person to admit that to, regardless of whether she voiced it first or not.

“But he is the Minister and as such, we must respect the position, if not the man.” She added.

“On that, we can both agree.” He piped up.

Amelia pulled a letter from within her robes and offered it to him. “I penned a letter to my niece a few days ago. It was a simple well-wishing and inquiry on her studies. This is what she wrote back to me.”

Dumbledore opened it and read it aloud. “Dearest Aunt Amelia. I wish I could tell you things are going well. I desperately wish I could tell you that. But they’re not. In the years prior, Hogwarts was a wonderful place to be. I was surrounded by happy friends and good times.

But that, sadly, is no longer the case. Professor Umbridge is, for lack of better term, a tyrant. We are learning _nothing_ from her. We are simply made to sit in the class day in and day out copying text from our book. We study nothing. We learn nothing.

And worst of all she tries to torture the children. I’m not sure what happens because I’ve not gotten detention with her but I hear stories from the other children. Some of my friends tell me things.

Because of her, all of us are miserable.

Please. You have the ear of the Minister. Can’t you do something?

Love, Susan Bones.” He looked to the woman. “When did you receive this?”

“Yesterday,” Amelia said, taking the letter back. “Why has no one contacted us about this?”

“Dolores Umbridge was put here by the Minister, Miss Bones. Any kind of protest would simply fall on deaf ears. You know that.”

She sighed and nodded. She _did_ in fact, know that. But her station afforded her some leeway. If she found Dolores to be a danger to herself and the students, she could have the woman carted away immediately and indefinitely.

And she was desperate to learn the truth of the woman. She certainly did not want another visit from…whatever had come to her office previously. “I will go and speak with Professor Umbridge to determine the truth of this,” she indicated the letter. “If I find her to be substandard to the position she’s been given, I will see about a replacement.”

“Would you entertain suggestions?” Dumbledore asked her.

“You had someone in mind?” She asked him.

“Alastor Moody,” Dumbledore offered.

Amelia stared at him thoughtfully. “Has he fully recovered from his ordeal?”

Dumbledore smiled. “I think you underestimate just how resilient Alastor is.” He snorted. “And not to put too fine a point on it but even Mr. Crouch, _posing_ as Professor Moody was a superior Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor to Dolores Umbridge.”

Amelia couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll make certain that little remark stays between us,” she said, turning to leave his office.

He watched her go and dropped back down behind his desk. Given what Rita had shared with him and assured him she’d see it resolved, he smiled and went back to work.

Amelia moved through halls, directly to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She peeked in and watched as Dolores stiffly moved about the room. Her face was a mask of silent discomfort. She glided through the door and stepped up behind the woman. “Are you alright, Dolores?” She asked, softly.

“Miss Bones. I, I didn’t know you were coming for a visit.” The woman said, nervously. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little sore.”

Amelia looked her up and down. “Why are you sore? What have you been doing? Have you spoken to Madam Pomfrey?”

Umbridge nodded. “I have. She’s said there’s nothing wrong. I’ve no injuries that she can detect. She’s given me several tonics to ease the pain but…” She shook her head. “None of them have worked.” She looked at Amelia with sad eyes. “Each night it, it just gets worse. I have no idea what’s happening to me. This morning I could scarcely get out of bed.”

Amelia remembered the words of the fearsome being in her office. _“Dolores Umbridge is a mortal problem. And as such, she should be dealt with by mortal laws. You represent that mortal law. We are giving you the chance to do as your position states you should. Protect and serve, Miss Bones. Woe be to you if we must get involved.”_ It would seem that whoever this _Spiral_ represented had already gotten involved. “I think your time is done here,” she said resting a hand on Dolores’ shoulder.

“I can still-,” she began to protest.

Amelia interrupted her. “Look at you, Dolores. You’re falling apart. You can barely walk. Heaven forbid if you have to try and teach these children something physical. I’m going to arrange to have you sent to Saint Mungos. I want the best Medi-Wizards and Medi-Witches they have looking you over.” She could see the crestfallen look on the woman’s face. “It’s for your own good, Dolores. If your condition is just getting worse, only God knows how long you have left.”

Umbridge stared at her a moment longer and nodded. “I’ll adjourn to my office and collect my things.”

“You’ll get better, Dolores. I promise,” Amelia said, softly. Secretly she hated Dolores Umbridge with a passion. But seeing the woman in such a condition was, frankly, heartbreaking. She was actually quite glad, however, that her job was made easier by the Undersecretary’s agreement to seek help for her mysterious affliction.

 

Harry turned to see Ron, Hermione, and Ginny step up beside him as he made his way down to the Great Hall for supper. “Did you hear?” Ron asked him, happily.

Harry cocked his head, curiously. “Hear what?”

“Professor Umbridge left this afternoon. Apparently, she was taken to Saint Mungo’s.” Hermione offered excitedly.

Ron and Ginny both whirled on her. “I didn’t hear _that_ ,” Ron said, frowning. “I just heard she was taken away.”

Hermione, having been a part of Rita’s plan to be rid of the woman, knew _exactly_ why she was taken to the wizarding hospital. And she found she couldn’t care less. The woman was a horrible person and, in her estimation, had gotten what she deserved. “We’ve all seen her. She’s been walking about like she has glass in her underpants for months. And it’s just been getting worse. It was only a matter of time.”

As Harry listened to this, he began to think. _What did Spiral do to her, I wonder?_ He asked himself. He found that he really didn’t care enough to ask. Umbridge was gone. That was all that mattered to him.

“I for one, am not going to miss her,” Ginny said as she walked along. “Do we know who they’re getting to replace her?”

“Amelia Bones finished teaching her class for the remainder of the day. Rumor has it they’re going to get Mad-Eye Moody to teach in her stead.” This from Hermione.

Harry nodded his approval. All four of the children knew the man to be competent. He would be a good fit for the school and might actually teach them something besides how to read and write from an ancient textbook.

As the quartet stepped into the Great Hall, Harry’s eyes fell to those of Luna Lovegood. The girl beamed happily at him and offered a wave. He returned it with a like smile. He was quite fond of the pretty blonde. She was as submissive as was possible to imagine but behind closed doors, she knew things. Things he was fairly certain girls her age _shouldn’t_ know. But he found that he didn’t care so much. He enjoyed the time she spent with him, Rita, and Narcissa. And from the wanton sexual noises she made, he was fairly certain she did as well.

His eyes then trailed to Draco. If he’d seen a more pitiful looking sight, he couldn’t recall. Draco sat at the very end of the Slytherin table with no one around him, save for Pansy Parkinson. She, as always was glued to his side. He was staring down at his plate as he simply pushed his food around. He had dark bags beneath his downturned eyes and looked gaunt and pale.

Harry knew he should feel bad for the boy. He and Rita had singlehandedly destroyed his life. And given that Rita had prevented him from ending said miserable existence, he was simply a boy with a broken spirit and a tortured soul. So yes, he _should_ have some semblance of sympathy for the young Malfoy. But he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Draco had been a pain in his ass since they began attending school together. _If you hadn’t been such a little pratt, you wouldn’t be dealing with this, now would you?_ He silently asked himself.

“Where’s Rita?” Ron asked, looking about. “She’s not here.”

Harry shook his head. “No. She said she had something she had to take care of.” She didn’t tell him exactly what she would be doing but he was fairly certain he knew. And if his suspicions were correct, the _Daily Prophet_ would be confirming it come morning.

 

Rita couldn’t help but chuckle. She floated through the trees silently watching as the big man rushed through the underbrush of the beautiful northern England countryside. She’d found him wandering the streets of London right where Narcissa said he’d be. It had been a simple matter to swoop down, render him unconscious and abscond with him.

He’d awoke a half hour ago in the forest. Thanks to menacing visions that only he could see, he began running. And had been doing so ever since.

Antonin Dolohov stumbled in the barely-there moonlight. He tripped over a rather thick tree root and went down, hard. He felt his shoulder separate with a loud _pop_. He grimaced and rose to his knees. "Bloody hell," he said, tightly. He gripped his right arm and pulled it across his chest. He was rewarded with a burst of white-hot pain and a sickening wet _thock_. The agony nearly made him black out. As it was, his stomach heaved and he dryly retched.

His reprieve, however, was short lived as once again, he heard the thunderous crash of something massive coming from a few paces behind him. A deep, guttural growl vibrated in his chest. After wiping his mouth, he rose shakily to his feet and turned to face the oncoming beast. He gripped his wand tightly in his fist. The pain in his right shoulder would slow him, he knew. But he had no intention of dying without a fight. The sound was deafening. It was as if a herd of stampeding elephants bore down on him. He gritted his teeth and pulled the Killing Curse to mind. “Come with it, then!” He shouted defiantly.

Suddenly, as quickly as the noise had arisen…it was gone. The night was still and silent. The only sounds he could hear were the blood rushing in his ears and the beating of his own heart. “What the-?” He voiced, not understanding.

“You didn’t think I was going to make it that easy for you, did you?” The voice sounded as if spoken by a child.

“Who are you? Where am I?” He asked, looking about.

“I am no one.” The girl said. “And you’re exactly where I want you to be.” She giggled brightly. “Away from your friends, your compatriots…your _master_ ,” she said turning sinister. “All alone,” There was a sudden flash to his left. He turned too late. A burning sensation stung his left arm. He looked down to see blood soaking the sleeve of his shirt. “At _my_ mercy.”

He slapped his hand over the wound. “Show yourself!” He snarled. “Fight me face to face.”

“I could,” the voice was now deep, male, and booming. He’d heard giants speak before. He swallowed his fear. “But I’m faced with a rather perplexing dilemma. Exactly _which_ face is it you wish to see, Antonin? I have _so many_.”

“Show me your real face. Your _true_ face. Stop hiding behind tricks and shadows.” He was angered and scared. He whipped his wand to and fro, ready to strike down anything that came near.

“My true face…hmm,” The voice pondered. “You know, it’s been so long, and I’ve been so many people…” He turned to see Lucius Malfoy step out of the forest. “I’m not exactly sure what face is mine anymore.”

 _“Avada Kedavra!”_ Antonin shouted, leveling his wand. The eldritch green energy rushed forth and flew harmlessly through the white-haired wizard. The tree behind him blew apart and toppled over.

“Tch, tch, tch,” Lucius shook his head. “Antonin, you disappoint me. Surely you couldn’t have expected me to not toy with you.”

“I expected so much better from you,” Fenrir Greyback’s voice called from behind him.

Again the Death Eater spun and loosed his killing curse. And again he was met with failure as the magic sailed harmlessly into the forest. “Come out and _FIGHT!_ ” He screamed the last word.

“Why?” The little girl asked again. “This is so much more fun.”

Antonin didn’t know what to say to that. “Why are you doing this? At least tell me that.”

“You serve Voldemort,” she said, the voice coming from everywhere. “That is all the reason that I need.” She chuckled. “You’ve no doubt noticed that quite a few of your fellow Death Eaters are missing. I’m assuming you read the news.”

“It doesn’t matter how many of us you take. There are always more,” Dolohov snarled.

“Very true,” she said. “So that means I don’t need to keep you alive.”

“Then face me.” He growled, looking around. “Fight me on even footing. I guarantee you, I will beat you.”

“Is that right?” She asked. “Very well. If you insist.” Spiral, in all of her six armed glory, danced effortlessly from the foliage. She stopped with two beautifully crafted swords in a pair of her arms. "You wished to see my true face." She grinned with sinister glee. "It is everything you hoped it would be?" 

 _“Avada Kedavra!”_ He shouted, whipping his wand toward her. His heart seemed to stop as if an icy cold fist clenched about it. Terror stole the words from his throat, the air from his lungs…as nothing happened. No magical light, no eldritch energy, not even a spark from the end of his wand. He was left to stare, helplessly at the beautiful enigma before him. Silver hair that glistened in the pale moonlight framed the face of an angel with the devil’s own smile. Her eyes glowed with white light. Her body was muscular and taut. Two of her arms seemed fashioned from metal. The blades she carried were unknown to him. “What, what are you?”

“I go by many names, my dear Antonin.” She began moving toward him. “Tonight,” she licked her lips. “You can call me Death.” She stopped a few paces from him. “Normally, I wouldn’t allow my prey a chance. I would simply cut you down and that would be the end of it. But I can appreciate a good, dedicated lackey. So I’m giving you a chance. One opportunity to save your worthless life.”

“I’ll not give you any information, bitch.” He spat at her.

“No, I don’t suspect you would. Voldemort well and truly has you by the balls.” With a whip of her hand, her sword embedded itself into the soft ground in front of him. “Pick it up. We’ll duel as individuals of old. Winner gets to go home. The loser…well, it won’t really matter, will it? No magic. No tricks. Just ability.” She swung the sword in a gossamer display. “Or I kill you where you stand.”

Antonin slowly tucked his wand into his belt and took the hilt of the blade. He struggled to free it from the dirt. He immediately noticed that the weapon weighed an _incredible_ amount. He was forced to wield it two-handed. He was gravely concerned that she carried hers in a single hand. “You gave me the heavier of the pair.”

“Did I?” She asked him. She reached out her hand. In a flash, the blade was wrenched from his fists and smacked back into hers. "Then a trade," she said, tossing the other weapon to him. He caught it and noticed that it was exactly the same weight. "Satisfied?"

“You said no tricks,” he said angrily. “You’re making my blade heavier.”

She sighed and cocked her head. “Now you’re just quibbling.” She motioned him forward. “Come on. Show me what you’ve got.”

He lifted the sword high above his head and rushed at her, screaming. She stepped effortlessly to the side and dragged her own across his ribs. It was a glancing blow, doing little real damage. Blood did, however, begin saturating his shirt. He staggered past her, hissing in pain.

“You shouldn’t telegraph so much. The screaming as you attack is a dead giveaway.”

He growled and turned, swinging his blade like a baseball bat. She lifted her own weapon and deflected the sword downward, causing him to bury the end in the dirt. She whipped her wrist, opening a thin channel along his right forearm.

“Better but you’re still slow as hell. See, watch me.” She stepped closer and flicked her wrist twice, then stepped back. He again felt pain in both of his cheeks. Blood dripped down his face. “See? In and out. You have to be quick. That’s the key.”

He went at her hard, trying to run her through. She let her own sword slide along the blade of his, easing it to the side before stopping his advance as the cross-guards met. He stood close to her, trying to force her back with his seemingly superior strength.

But she didn’t budge an inch. “This isn’t the position you want to find yourself in with a stronger opponent.” Given that she had only one hand on her blade, five iron-hard fists struck in rapid succession on his torso. Each short, yet powerful punch resounded in a sharp _crack_. His breath suddenly became pained and labored. He backed off quickly, his right arm now wrapped around his midsection. “Live and learn, Mr. Dolohov.”

“What…are you?” He asked her again, through bloody lips. “You aren’t human.”

She rested her sword on her shoulder and stood all five remaining arms akimbo. “Really?” She looked down at herself. “What was your first clue?”

“I don’t know you. Voldemort doesn’t know you. How can you, why are you doing this?”

“I beg to differ, sir,” she said, cocking her head. “You see, Voldemort _does_ know me. Once upon a time, he hired me.” She grinned. “Right,” she said, dragging the word out. “That was _before_ you got out of Azkaban.”

Antonin frowned. “He…he hired you? For what?”

“I suppose I might as well tell you,” she said moving closer to him. “Your beloved Dark Lord tasked me with killing young Harry Potter when he fled to the states over the Summer.” She began circling him. “It would have been so easy for me to do. I had him, unconscious, in bed.” She stopped and looked at him. “After a night of rather enjoyable passion, I might add,” she said before continuing to circle. She noticed him running his fingers along the inside of his left forearm. “That won’t do you any good. He can’t hear you.” The man ceased what he was doing.

“Why didn’t you do what you were told?” He asked her.

She stopped again and grinned at him. “Because if I did, I’d only get to kill Harry.” She shook her head. “How utterly droll. But if I _protected_ him, I’d get to kill so many more people. And given everything you Death Eaters have done?” She chuckled. “I don’t have to feel bad about what I do to you.”

“It won’t matter. He can’t be stopped. You kill one of us, another will take our place. We are endless. Voldemort will _always_ have followers.” It was the last thing he said before her sword punched through his throat.

“I’m immortal,” she said, grinning. “I’ve got nothing but time.” She watched the light fade from Antonin Dolohov’s eyes. “Another one bites the dust.” She sheathed her blades and once again took the body to add to her collection.

Harry would no doubt be waiting in his dorm room for her. She was eager to get back to him.

 


	23. Chapter 23

Spring saw the flowers around Hogwarts in full bloom. The smell of fresh green life filled the air. The early April showers had held off for a while longer. So Harry, hand in hand with Rita, walked along the shore of the lake. “Narcissa wants to see you, tonight.” Rita offered. “She misses you.”

Harry sighed. "I know. I miss her, too. I've just been so busy with my lessons." He looked to his wife. "Professor Moody says we've got a lot of catching up to do. The past month, he's been giving us extra homework to help us get back up to par." 

Rita nodded. Though she didn’t really need it, she’d been attending her classes fairly more regularly as well. She’d taken to just continuing her day-to-day. She’d only spent a handful of nights in her bed in the Slytherin dorms. Harry had been too exhausted over the past month to engage in anything besides a quick fuck. So Rita had taken to spending her evenings with Narcissa. The woman was showing quite fully, now. Her round belly was making getting around Grimmauld Place difficult. Rita had absolutely no problem running and fetching for the mother of Harry’s child.

She had been there night after night with foot, ankle, leg and back massages. She cooked, cleaned, and even used her own power to help Narcissa get to sleep. Through it all, even though she looked thoroughly miserable, Narcissa assured her that she was fine and that such was par for the course.

Rita also made certain that Narcissa never wanted for sensual attention. And given her current state, Narcissa was quite avarice.

“She said she wants to spend the evening with you,” Rita said. “Like I said, she misses you.”

"I'll take the time to come and stay at the house tonight," Harry responded. 

“It’ll just be the pair of you, tonight. I’ve got another project to take care of.”

Harry sighed and looked at her. “Do I want to know?” He asked her.

“Probably not,” Rita said. “It’s a little fun for myself. I’ve been toying with the idea and think I might have a way to make it work.”

“What are you going to do?” He asked her.

“I think it’s time to toy with Draco a little more,” she said, grinning.

Harry snorted and shook his head. “I’m starting to feel bad for him.”

“If you want me to leave him alone, just say so. I’ll quit torturing him if you want me to.” She kissed him. “I love you, Harry. I only want you to be happy.”

He returned her embrace and shrugged. “Toying with him makes you happy. Go ahead. It’s alright,” he said, smiling. “Just be careful.”

“I will,” she said to him. “You ready?” She asked him. As he nodded, she drew in her power and transported them both to the room the three of them shared. Narcissa lay on her side, sound asleep. Her thin negligee was bunched up around her distended belly. Harry couldn’t help but smile at the fact that she wasn’t wearing underwear. Given that those she had didn’t fit any longer. The sight of the beautiful woman carrying his child was unbelievable to him. He turned to Rita. She looked at him. “What?” She asked him. She was surprised when he pulled her in roughly and plundered her mouth with his tongue. His hand moved down and took a handful of her bottom as his other fist curled into her long blonde hair. She _loved it_ when he was forceful with her. She moaned softly.

After a few seconds, they parted. “Thank you,” he said, quietly.

She stared at him, heavy-lidded. “For what?”

He turned to Narcissa. “For giving me this.” He shook his head. “I never would have thought it possible. I have a, a life with you. I’m being given a new family.” He felt tears threaten his eyes. “I never expected to be this happy again.”

Rita turned his face to look at him. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Harry. _Nothing_ ,” she said to him. “You’ve only to ask and anything in the world is yours.”

He took her hands and squeezed them. “I know, Rita. And not a day goes by that you don’t prove that to me.” He kissed her again. “Go and have fun. I’ll see you later?”

"Might not be home, tonight. But it’s the weekend, so you don’t need to get back to school until Monday.”

He gave her a nod. "Take your time." He licked his lips as he looked at the sleeping woman. "I'm sure I'll find something to occupy mine." 

Rita chuckled and nodded. “Just don’t break her.” With that, she teleported away, leaving Harry to stare down at Narcissa.

He quickly stripped down and climbed into bed with the elder woman. He moved up behind her, snuggling in close to her. He eased her gown up, caressing her stomach softly with his fingertips. The motion earned a soft coo. He slid his hand down, over the curve of her thigh and around behind her leg. His fingers slid between her legs and glided along her swollen sex. Her lips were parted and warm. He pushed a finger inside, gently.

“Mmmm…” Narcissa returned, groggily. “That’s nice, Harry,” she said, softly. She parted her legs a bit further. He worked his hand a bit more fervently.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been by,” he said, apologetically.

She let out a lustful moan. “It’s alright, love. You’ve been busy. Rita has told me. Professor Moody has been, _Gods, Harry_ ,” she said heavily. “Extra lessons and coursework.” She added hurriedly. “Don’t stop.”

He added a second finger. “Umbridge made a right hash of the class while she was there.”

Narcissa nodded but she wasn’t paying attention any longer. She was lost to the feeling of Harry’s hands on her body. She knew that this was but a taste of what the night would bring. And she was more than looking forward to it.

 

Rita appeared back by the lake. She looked up at saw Hagrid sitting outside his cottage, working with his large crossbow. She smiled and began making her way toward him. “Oh, Hagrid, dear?” Rita asked.

The half-giant lifted his head and smiled. “'Ello, Rita,” he said, cheerfully, giving her a wave. He really liked the girl. She was a gutsy no-nonsense young lady that meant the world to Harry, which meant a lot to him. And, if he were to be honest, she made a right fine pot of black tea.

Since marrying her, Harry had never been happier. The boy had a spring in his step and was joyful. It was nice to see. And seeing the pair together always made his heart light, as they were always smiling. “What kin I do fer ya?”

“Do you still have Fluffy?”

Hagrid frowned. “Why are ye askin’ about Fluffy?”

“I’m just curious. Do you?” Hagrid looked at her somewhat uncomfortably. “I won’t tell anyone. I’m just curious.”

“Well, ah, ye see. Dumbledore was supposed to send him back to Greece.” Hagrid’s face grew sad. “But he knows that I like Fluffy a lot and he, well…”

“He couldn’t do it?” Rita asked him. Hagrid shook his head. “So you still have him, somewhere?” Hagrid bit his lip and nodded. “That’s perfectly fine. I was wondering if I might be able to borrow him for a little while.” She stepped up and stood in front of him. “I promise nothing will happen to him.”

Hagrid raised an eyebrow. “What did ya need ‘im fer?”

“Just an experiment I'm working on. Nothing that'll harm him, I promise. I've never had a chance to work with a Cerberus before and I'm quite interested.” She saw Hagrid give her a curious and confused look. “I’m into science in a rather significant way. I was able to make a concoction that would permanently let Remus Lupin control his transformations. He can become a werewolf at will, isn’t forced to become one on the full moon, and has all of his faculties when he does change.”

Hagrid’s eyes widened and he nodded. “Right. Headmaster Dumbledore was tellin’ me about that. Didn’t mention it was you that done it.”

“I just want a chance to spend a little time with Fluffy. Again, I promise, nothing will happen to him. In fact, I’m fairly certain he might enjoy himself.”

Hagrid trusted Rita implicitly. If she said nothing would happen to Fluffy, he took it as gospel. “He can be a might temperamental. Ye sure ye kin handle 'im?”

“I have a way with animals,” she said, smiling. “I can keep him in line.”

“Awright.” Hagrid returned, nodding. “Gotta go inta the forest to git him. Meet ya here in a few hours,” he said as he rose to his feet.

“I’ve got to get a few things ready anyway. I’ll be back to pick him up. Thank you, Hagrid.”

“Just make sure to feed him. He’s got a right large appetite.” The half-giant instructed.

“I will. Thanks again.” Rita said as she turned away, heading back to the school. “This is gonna be fun,” she said to herself.

She concentrated and teleported into the Slytherin common room. As was often the case, the room was empty. Draco sat on the sofa looking thoroughly dejected. And Pansy, predictably, was right by his side. “Ah, good,” she said, smiling at the pair of them. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to go looking for the pair of you.”

Both of them regarded her. Pansy glared at her. “What do you want?” She asked, sharply. “Haven’t you caused Draco enough pain?”

Rita simply smiled like a skull. She began swaying as if listening to some tune that only she could hear. “Not by a _damn_ sight.” She responded.

Draco stared at her as she moved. “What more can you do to me?” He asked, weakly. “You’ve taken everything from me.”

“Not quite,” she said. A heartbeat later, the pair fell unconscious in each other’s arms. She stopped dancing and stepped over, taking one of their hands in hers. “But I will. Time to go.” She popped away in a flash.

After making certain that her guests were well attended, Rita was back in front of Hagrid’s cottage as the sun was finally setting. She didn’t have long to wait as the big man came out of the forest with the massive three-headed dog on a thick, sturdy chain. “Come on, Fluffy,” he said, tugging the canine along. “Don’ gimme any o’ that, now.” The animal was obviously not keen to be on the lead as he was.

She chuckled as he struggled with the beast. She approached the pair, fearlessly. All three of Fluffy’s heads centered on her and began growling fiercely.

“Like I said,” Hagrid began. “He’s got a bit of a rotten temper.”

Rita stepped up to the dog. “Oh, he’s not so bad,” she said, offering her hand to him. “Are you, boy?”

Fluffy growled and bared his teeth. The three heads moved down and sniffed at her. She drew upon her sorcery and reached into the creature’s mind, calming him. Fluffy stopped growling and began nuzzling her head and licking her face.

"Well, I'll be," Hagrid said, smiling. “Ye _do_ got a way with animals.” He handed her the chain. “There ya go. I was gonna tell ya about how to keep ‘im in check but I think ye got it handled.”

Rita nodded and scratched all three of his noses. “He’ll have fun, I promise.” She looked at Hagrid. “I’ll bring him back tomorrow morning.”

“Awright. Have fun,” he said, patting the dog’s side. He watched with a smile as the pair vanished. “Still amazes me that she kin do that.” He turned and walked back to his cottage, whistling as he did so.

 

Draco came to in complete darkness. The room was cool and smelled dank and wet. He immediately felt the gag in his mouth, stifling his voice. Something draped over his head obscured his vision. His wrists and ankles were tightly bound but didn’t hurt. When he’d been secured, they’d taken great care to make sure he was, while not comfortable, he wasn’t in pain. He struggled to test the limits of his bonds and found himself well and truly sequestered. He wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. He calmed himself and paid what attention he could to his surroundings.

He heard the sound of soft mewling whimper. Someone was crying. He tried to speak again but found he couldn't form words past the ball in his mouth.

“Hello?” Pansy Parkinson, her voice filled with terror called out. “Is there someone there?”

Draco raged and began his struggling anew. But it was all for naught. He couldn't move a thread. Without warning, light filled the room. A few seconds later whatever was over his face was removed. His blinked his eyes, trying to focus. Finally, his gaze settled on Rita's smiling countenance. "Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said, happily. “Glad you could finally join us.”

His eyes went wide. Anger caused his brow to furl. She simply continued to grin sardonically at him.

“Draco?” Pansy called out. “Are you there? I don't, I can't see anything.”

“That's because you're blindfolded, dear.” Rita offered over her shoulder. She stepped aside to allow Draco to see his fellow Slytherin. It took him a moment to register what he was seeing. He swallowed as his eyes trailed over her. Pansy's petite form was bent over at that waist. Beneath her was some sort of wooden construction. She was naked, with her bottom higher than her head and her hands were bound with shackles and secured with thick chains to the stone floor.

“Rita? Why are you doing this?” She asked, her voice cracking. She began crying.

Rita stepped over and pulled the girl's blindfold off. “I’m doing this because I want to,” she said, gleefully.

“Let me go this _instant_ ,” Pansy commanded.

“Let me think,” Rita said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “No.” She offered back, grinning. “Besides I have to prove to Draco that he was oh, _so_ very wrong.” She pat the girl's head.

“What, what do you mean?” Pansy asked, fearful.

“Well,” Rita said as she walked slowly around the girl. She ran her fingers along Pansy’s pale naked flesh. “Draco said that I had already taken everything from him.” She shook her head. “He knows _full well_ that that was flatly untrue.” She stopped behind the girl. She leaned in and ran her tongue from front to back, all along the teenage Slytherin’s exposed lips and anus. The action caused Pansy to gasp sharply. “I left him you.” She drew her hand back and swatted the girl’s naked bottom, resulting in a loud _whack_.

She moved back around and stopped in front of Draco. He was now crying past the gag in his mouth. “I told you that I like Pansy. And I do. Very much so,” she said as she pulled a small leather case out of her pocket. “She’s fiery, brash…she doesn’t take shit from anyone. I respect that. And she loves the shit out of you.” She opened the case and withdrew a syringe. “She stays by you when everyone else seems to have abandoned you. Even Severus.” She saw Draco look at the needle nervously. “What? This?” She shook her head. “This isn’t for you.” She turned to Pansy, showing it to her. “This is for you.”

“What is it?” The girl asked, fearful.

“It won’t harm you, I promise. It’ll just make you a bit more… _receptive_ to what a friend of mine is going to be giving you shortly.” She pushed the needle into the side of Pansy’s stomach, earning a pained hiss from the girl. “It shouldn’t take too long to take effect. A few minutes at the most.” She moved over and removed Draco’s gag. “Why don’t I let you two chat amongst yourselves while I finish the arrangements?”  

The pair watched the blonde girl strut out of sight. “Draco?” She asked, worriedly. She lifted her head to see him staring at her, sorrow, fear, and regret in his eyes. “What is she going to do with us?”

He shook his head. It was obvious he was just as lost as she was. “I don’t know. She’s crazy. And _evil_. I think she’s worse than Voldemort.”

“Is she going to kill us?” Pansy asked as she began to cry.

He sighed and stared into her eyes. Slowly, he shook his head. “No. I don’t think she is.” He saw Pansy’s face brighten a bit. “I wouldn’t consider that a benefit. She’s…she’s an expert at torment. She won’t kill us…because that’s too quick. She’s going to torture us. A lot.”

“But,” Pansy said, swallowing deeply. “A-at least we’ll be alive. That’s something, right?”

“It is. But the question is will we _want_ to be alive when she gets finished with us?” He motioned to her with his head. “I don’t care what she does to me. I’ve lost almost everything. All I have now is you.” He gave her a soft smile. “But I fear what she plans for you in that position.”

Pansy steeled her resolve. “Whatever she has planned for me, I’ll endure it. I won’t let her break me.” She stared intently at him. “You need me to stay strong, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

He again smiled at her. “I love you, Pansy,” he said to her. “I should have told you sooner.”

“It’s alright, Draco. I love you, too.” She returned. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

After a few minutes, a deep growling suddenly emanated from the side of the room. “I think that should be enough time,” Rita said as she walked toward them. Behind her, on a massive dog lead, the form of a massive three-headed canine emerged from the shadows. “Draco? Pansy? Meet Fluffy.” She stopped and patted the dog's three huge heads. “He's quite happy to meet you.” She looked at Pansy with a sinister grin. “Especially you.”

The color drained from both children’s faces. “No,” Draco said, shaking head furiously. “Please don’t.”

Pansy began struggling against her bonds. “You can’t!”

“I promised him a good time, Pansy. You don’t suggest I break my word, do you?” Rita asked. She let the lead go and moved over, replacing Draco’s gag. “Can’t have you spooking the dog. Things might get awkward.” He tried to fight her but she managed to secure it neatly. “There we go.” He growled and snarled at her, his eyes cursing her.

“Please, Rita,” Pansy said, pleading. “I’ll do anything you ask. Don’t do this to me.” She was sobbing in earnest now.

Rita slid over and gripped the girl's hair, lifting her head to look her in the eyes. The angle made the girl's neck hurt. "You don't get it." She stepped aside and pointed at Draco. "For four years of Harry’s life, that little piece of shit made it a living hell. He rubbed into my husband’s face that his parents were dead. He gave him no end of shit. Harry’s home life was fucking torture. And _he_ only piled on the misery while Harry was at school.”

“But surely a bit of teasing doesn’t warrant-,” Pansy began.

Rita cut her off. “Yes,” she said, nodding. “It does. But like I said to this wretched little lump of albino horseshit, I’m not going to take anything else away from him. He’ll still have you.” She leaned down and sneered at the girl. “But after he watches what Fluffy does to you, he might not _want_ you.” She let the girl’s head go.

“You won’t get away with this. I’ll tell everyone. You’ll be hung out to dry. They’ll execute you for this,” Pansy said, angrily.

“Oh, you won’t be telling a soul.” Rita took a hold of Fluffy’s chain. “But you are right, thanks to that little injection I gave you, people will know what you did.” She met the girl’s eyes. “It just might take a few months.” Pansy’s eyes widened. “But take heart,” she said patting one of Fluffy’s heads. “You’ll get to be a mommy.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for the kiddos that need it. Shit in this chapter is DARK and DIRTY. If you're uncomfortable with the direction things were headed in the last chapter, then you sure as hell aren't going to like the destination, either. 
> 
> You've been warned.

 

“No, no, no,” Pansy whined and cried. She whipped her eyes to Draco. “Help me!”

Draco, for his part, tried. He fought with everything he had to free himself. But it was a wasted exercise. He could only watch in complete and utter horror as the brute was led around and positioned behind the girl. He felt bile rise in his throat as he saw the enormous red phallus bobbing between the animal's hind legs. He prayed for the girl he loved. He wished for nothing more than to spare her the pain she was about to experience.

Yes, he had treated Harry Potter horribly over the last four years. So yes, an argument could be made that he deserved what Rita was doing to him. But Pansy was innocent. She, as far as he knew, had never had a foul word to say about Harry. She shouldn’t be the target of Rita’s ire. But here she was, soon to be raped mercilessly…because of _him_. Because she knew him, because she had stayed by his side when friends abandoned him, she was paying a price that no one, man or woman, should _ever_ have to pay.

He wanted to avert his eyes, wanted to look away. He knew that what he was about to watch would haunt him for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t. More to the point, he _wouldn’t_. Pansy would suffer the pain, so he could weather the mental torment of seeing it through. He vowed to not let this diminish his love for her.

Rita stepped around and moved Fluffy closer. His rump thrusting, eager to mount his bitch. “Easy, big fella,” she said as she guided his engorged member toward the young student's narrow opening. She kept her gloved hand secure on the dog’s cock, keeping him from impaling the girl too quickly.

Given the sheer size of the animal, it amazed him that she could control him. It was a testament to how strong she was.

Pansy just kept crying “No, no, no,” over and over again as if saying it would make the whole nightmarish scenario go away, that repeating those words would transport her back to the Slytherin common room in Draco’s arms.

But as she felt the heat of Fluffy’s engorged member begin to press into her unused channel, she knew her fate was sealed. She was a virgin. She’d never even touched herself before. Her pussy had never been penetrated. Not long ago, she’d offered herself to Draco, as a balm for his aching soul. He had refused her. Not because he didn’t want her. Far from it. He turned her down because he wanted what they shared to mean something when it happened. When he took her virginity and offered his in return, he wanted it to be special. Not the whim of a girl looking to free him from depression. He wanted there to be more than that.

Now, as he watched the girl’s eyes widen and her mouth gape in pain, he couldn’t help but sob. Not for himself but for the tiny dark-haired Slytherin before him. Her body was being violated for no better reason than sheer pettiness. Rita was doing this to the girl…because she _could_.

Rita carefully adjusted Fluffy’s massive erection, edging the tip into the girl’s tight vaginal opening. As her lips parted and the first inch of the dog’s cock entered, she removed her hand. She then patted Pansy’s bottom. “Have fun, boy.” She said to him. She backed away as the tremendous canine thrust forward. Several inches of Fluffy’s member disappeared into the small teenage girl. There was an obscene squelching, tearing sound as he began hammering away.

Draco, in all his life, had never heard anything like the sound that emanated from Pansy Parkinson's throat at that moment. It was a scream that would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his days. It was made worse by the accompaniment of Rita...laughing.

The blonde watched the display and smiled brightly. Blood dripped from the girl’s pussy as Fluffy shoved as much of his cock as he was able into her. Pansy’s voice grew hoarse as she screamed to high heaven. Words were lost to her amid nothing save a blinding din of agony. Her slim body shook violently as the dog rammed into her again and again.

Rita looked over and saw Draco staring at her with tear-reddened eyes. “Oh, you shouldn’t be missing this.” She held her hand out and magically lifted the heavy chair that Draco was secured to and moved it over beside her. She leaned over as it settled down beside her and pointed to the girl’s now raw, bloody vaginal opening. “Look at that,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s going to town, isn’t he? I’d say he’s enjoying himself.”

He just cried and mewled as Fluffy raped the girl he loved. He could do nothing but look on in horror and disgust. He flicked his eye over and saw that the wooden contraption that Pansy was secured to was starting to fracture. He smiled at the thought. If it fell apart, she would be free.

“Oh, shit,” Rita said, stepping past him. “Can’t have you breaking on me.” She waved her hand and secured the separation. “That would have been terrible.” She leaned forward and rested a hand on Pansy’s ribs. “Yeesh. He is bruising the _hell_ out of your cervix right now.” She lowered her head to look into Pansy’s eyes. “What’s the matter?” She asked as she saw the girl’s face. Her cheeks were stained red from tears and her eyes were puffy. Her mouth was hanging open in silent screams. “Does it hurt?” Pansy had enough wherewithal to nod. “Oh, that’s too bad. I don’t think he’s managed to get it all in, yet.” She smiled at the girl’s dawning horror. “Gonna be a sight to see, though.” She patted her head and moved back around behind. “Check it out, Draco.” She pointed to the massive knot on the bottom of Fluffy’s penis. “Can you imagine how bad that’s gonna hurt when he forces that big ol’ thing in her?”

His eyes widened. The knot was easily the size of a Muggle football, or _Soccer_ ball as the Americans called it. He didn’t, for a moment, believe such a thing would fit into the petite girl. He shook his head and tried to speak.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking. There’s no way it would fit, right?” Rita asked, half-sitting on his lap. She draped an arm over his shoulder. “Well, you see, the little injection I gave her? It’s having a few effects right now. True, it is making what she’s going through infinitely more painful but it’s also forcing her to slowly stretch out to accommodate our large furry friend, here. Yeah, there’s a little blood but it won’t be anything permanent.” She turned back to Fluffy slamming away at the girl. Pansy’s stomach was distending as the dog penetrated her deeper and deeper. “So, eventually, he’ll be able to get all of that in her.” She looked back to Draco, smiling. “Cool, huh?” She ran a finger along his cheek. “You see, I’m not just another pretty face. I’m a bit of a science nerd. Thanks to Professor Snape and the use of his lab, I’ve managed to concoct all sorts of fun things.” She withdrew another syringe from within her robes. “This one, I’m _really_ proud of.” She motioned back toward the display. “Is this turning you on?” Draco frowned and shook his head emphatically. “I somehow didn’t think so.” She jabbed the needle into the side of his neck. “Give it time,” she said, draining it. She replaced the syringe and climbed off his lap.

She walked around Pansy as the girl was violated and humiliated in equal measure. Her face was a mask of sheer, unequaled pain. She knelt down and looked the girl in the face. She was somewhat surprised when the girl’s eyes focused on her. Pansy’s brow furled, which really surprised her. “I’ll kill you,” she said, her voice little more than a raspy exhale.

“If you could, I’m sure you would,” Rita said. “But I won’t let you. You’ll want to. Oh, my, how you will want to.” She shook her head. “But you never will.” She stood and saw Fluffy quickening his pace. “Oh, I think he’s just about ready to-,” She didn’t manage to finish the sentence as a sharp wet _thop_ amid a painful tearing sound filled the room. Fluffy growled and panted.

Once again, Pansy’s face twisted in agonizing pain. Rita moved around to see a huge bulge in Pansy’s gut. She watched as Fluffy, buried to the hilt in the girl’s tight vagina, emptied his seed. Thick copious amounts of semen squirted from around his penis. “Most breeds of large dogs have been known to knot with their bitch for up to a half an hour,” Rita said as she pulled a chair over, sat down, and began watching her timepiece. “I wonder how long a Cerberus can last. It’ll be exciting to find out. Just know that you're furthering science, sweetie.” She then looked at Draco. “Isn't this interesting?” She looked at his crotch to see him sporting quite an erection. “Oh, looks like it _is_ turning you on.” She spoke again to Pansy. “You hear that, honey? He thinks you getting raped by a giant dog is sexy as hell. Doesn’t that make you just feel wanted?”

She couldn’t see Pansy bawling. Draco stared at the elder Slytherin student with open hatred. She smiled at him. “Remember,” she stopped smiling and snarled at him. “ _You_ brought all this about. You made an enemy of Harry. Now you and everyone you care about is paying the price.” She motioned to Pansy. “Case in point.”

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Fluffy’s gargantuan member went flaccid and popped free of Pansy’s swollen bloody pussy. Thick, sticky, blood-pinkened semen oozed out of her. The huge dog retreated to a far corner of the room and lay down, licking his genitals clean. “Well,” Rita said, rising to her feet. “Forty-two minutes exact. Interesting.” She went around to look at Pansy. The girl was utterly spent. Her eyes had rolled up into her skull and she was nearly comatose. “Uh, uh, uh,” she said, patting the girl’s face. “Wake up, darling. The night isn’t over yet.” She lifted her face to let Pansy’s gaze come back into focus. “You’re loving boyfriend hasn’t had his fun, yet.”

“P-please,” Pansy said, her voice barely a whisper. “Not like this. Don’t do this to him.”

Rita cocked her head. “Huh. You don’t really give a shit what else I do to you. You only care that I leave him be?” Pansy nodded weakly. “Will it make you feel better that his pain will be over soon? That this will be the last act of depravity I force on him? After that, I’ll leave him be. Will that make you happy?”

The girl let out a sob and averted her eyes. “Then do what you will.”

Rita grinned. “You got it.” She let go of Pansy’s head and moved around behind Draco. She released all of his bonds, allowing him to stand. “Take off your robes and fuck her. Don’t be gentle about it.” Her voice carried immeasurable power. It compelled him to do as he was told.

His erection hurt, he’d had it so long. With tears in his eyes, he did as he was commanded. Once he was nude of form, Rita snapped her fingers. His hands were once again tightly bound. This time, behind his back. He positioned himself behind the girl, his stomach turning at the ruined state of her gaping, cum-soaked pussy. The thought of him pushing his cock into the mess caused him to vomit around the ball-gag. Sick flooded from his nose and spurted around the edges of his gag.

Rita laughed as she backed away. “Wow,” she said, happily. “I gotta admit. I did _not_ see that coming.” She saw part of the puke had landed on Pansy's back. “That's kinda nasty.” She looked at Draco. “Get to it.” She pointed and snapped her fingers. 

With tears in his eyes and a sob on his lips, Draco slid his cock into her loose pussy. After what she’d endured, there was little in the way of friction. He pumped in and out, crying all the while. Rita watched and was overjoyed. She could see that she had well and truly broken the blonde boy. Draco fucked away with wild abandon, offering nothing but tears for his destroyed love and hatred for her. “As soon as you cum in her, I’ll let you both go.” Rita offered, crossing her arms.

Pansy, showing a strength of will and body that, frankly, Rita was stunned beyond words she had left, did everything she could to help the boy. She grunted and cried out in pain as she flexed her sore, sex-beaten stomach muscles. She was doing her level best to tighten her pussy to accommodate Draco’s rather lackluster size. “Credit where credit is due, Pansy. That’s impressive.”

Draco’s eyes closed as he felt some semblance of pressure around his member. Fluffy’s cum still flooded out from around his cock as he thrust again and again. After nearly five minutes of straight fucking, his face tightened and he released inside her. He stepped away from her, letting the girl collapse in an exhausted heap on the wooden platform. He then stared at Rita with a look of utter defeat. He mumbled something unintelligible.

Rita chuckled. “I gave my word,” she said, smiling. “You’re free.” She held her hand out to him. Across her palm…lay the knife he attempted to use to cut his wrists those weeks ago. “I’m letting you go.”

Draco swallowed and looked at the girl. Pansy could offer nothing. She was passed out cold. He turned and lifted his hands a little. Rita nodded, letting the chains drop to the floor. Draco quickly pulled the gag from his mouth. He spit and heaved the rest of the vomit from his mouth. “Promise me,” he said as he hacked and spat. “Promise me that once I’m gone, you’ll leave her alone.”

“You really do love her, don’t you?” Rita asked her.

“Not that you care.” He snapped.

“If it makes you feel any better, I do give you my word that I won’t let _anything_ happen to her. She’ll live a long and healthy life after tonight. I’ll make certain of it.” She crossed her arms. “So what’s it gonna be, Draco?”

He stared at her. “You don’t think I’ll do it, do you?”

“It isn’t my choice anymore. It’s yours. You had the balls before.”

He stared her in the eye. “Just know that my death is on your hands.”

She smiled. “I can live with that.” She watched as, just like before, Draco dragged the blade up the length of both of his arms. Rita waved her hand and slid the chair up behind him, letting him drop back into it. She then moved around in front of Pansy and magically pulled the chair with her. Once it was in position, she reached down and began coaxing Pansy awake. 

“No,” Draco said, shaking his head. “Don’t make her watch this. You said you wouldn’t hurt her anymore.”

“You’re right, I did,” Rita said. “I’m just waking her up. Killing yourself is something _you_ chose to do. For reasons that _completely_ escape me, she loves you. I would think she’d wanna see that the man she loved chose death over her.” She shook her head. “I’m not doing this to her, Draco. _You_ are.”

The girl came to and looked up to see her love sitting in a chair, blood pouring from wounds on his wrists. “Draco? What…what are you doing?”

“Close your eyes, Pansy,” he said softly. “Don’t watch.”

“No, Pansy,” Rita piped in. “ _Do_ watch. This is how much he loves you. He would rather end his life than be with you.” She grinned as the girl looked at her. “This isn’t the first time he’s tried, either.”

“Draco? Is that true?” She asked, weakly. He turned away, ashamed. She began sobbing anew. “Please don’t. _Please_!” She looked frantically at Rita. “Don’t let him do this. I’ll do anything. I’ll even let,” she bit her lip. “You can have Fluffy ravage me again if it’ll save him. Just please don’t let him die.”

Rita couldn’t help but laugh. “What a pair you are.” She wiped tears from her eyes. “It's refreshing to see love this profound, it really is.” She moved around behind Draco and lifted his hands. “He's really not in any danger. He sucks at suicide. The chances of him dying of this are pretty poor. Despite what the movies tell you, cutting your wrists is a shit way to kill yourself.” She looked past him to Pansy. “I gave my word that I would leave you two alone after this. Frankly because, well,” she dropped his arms and motioned to Fluffy who was now napping in the corner. “I can't top this.” She retreated into the shadows and came back carrying a large first aid kit. She took care in wrapping Draco's arms tightly. “The injection I gave him will have him right as rain in no time.” 

Pansy smiled for the first time in hours. “Thank you.” She said, softly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Rita said, grinning. “I said I’d stop fucking with the pair of you. I never said I’d let the pair of you be happy.” Pansy’s eyes grew wide. “Time to get you two home.”

 

Hagrid moved to his door and threw it open as he saw the bright flash out his windows. Rita stood with Fluffy, scratching his ears while the dog chewed on…he wasn’t quite sure what it was. It looks to be an animal of some kind. “So how did yer experiment go?”

Rita grinned. “Oh, it went great. He’s a gem.” She turned the big dog. “Aren’t you, baby?” He gruffed and yipped as he lay down and gnawed upon his fresh meal.

“What’s he eatin’?” Hagrid asked, curiously.

“Oh, he's got a rare treat. I'm pretty sure it's something he's never eaten before.” She looked at Hagrid. “A moose.”

Hagrid nodded. “Aye. Can’t say I’ve ever fed him that before.”

“Thanks for letting me borrow him. He had a wonderful time.” She patted the big dog’s side. “Didn’t you, boy?”


	25. Chapter 25

Rita stood, looking down at Narcissa Black as she slept. She’d whisked Harry back to school and was now alone with the woman. She’d been thinking long and hard about it and decided that the woman should know the truth. She leaned down and kissed Narcissa’s lips. Her eyes fluttered open and she returned it immediately. “Good morning, Rita,” she said, happily. She stretched and grimaced a touch. “Oh,” she said, rubbing her back. Given that she was nearly eight months pregnant, it wasn’t surprising. “Did Harry get to school alright?”

“He did,” she said, nodding. “We need to talk.”

Narcissa nodded and struggled to sit up. Rita was right there to help her. She easily adjusted the elder woman so she sat comfortably against the headboard. “Nothing dire, I hope.”

“I certainly hope not.” Rita began pacing back of forth. “A handful of people know what I’m about to show you. Harry knew from the beginning.” She stopped and stared at Narcissa. “I’m not who I claim to be.” She saw Narcissa frown. “Okay, that didn’t come out right. I’m not who I claim to be _anymore_.”

“Does that make sense in some fashion I’m not familiar with?” The woman asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Trust me, when this all went down, I was just as confused.” Rita closed her eyes, drew in a breath…and let her disguise go. The slender blonde Slytherin student was replaced with the tall, muscular, six-armed form of Spiral, Dimensional Assassin. She opened her eyes and stared down at Narcissa. “This is what I really look like.”

The Black matriarch’s mouth stood agape as she looked on. She ran her eyes over the figure before her. For several seconds, she said nothing. She simply gazed in awe. She glanced at the metal limbs upon her left side. “Wh-,” she swallowed and tried again. “What are you?” Fear dripped from her voice.

Spiral understood the woman’s fear, she really did. “I’m still human, more or less. But I’m just, well…a bit extra as you can see.” She took a step closer and had to stop as the woman reflexively recoiled. “Please, Narcissa. I want you to understand. How I feel, about you, about Harry, about the child you carry, none of that changes.”

“I just, well, this is…” Narcissa wasn’t sure what to say. “You have six arms!” She blurted. “Who has that?!”

Spiral sighed and sat on the very foot of the bed. “I just felt you needed to know. It wasn’t fair to keep this from you.”

Narcissa could see a dawning fear of the girl. "What happened? You said you were – _are­ –_ human.”

Spiral went on to explain what had happened to her at the hands of Mojo. It was a painful tale, made worse by his eventual exile of her into this dimension. She recounted her meeting with Harry, how she’d been tasked by Voldemort to kill him and her instead swearing to protect him and love him.

Narcissa listened intently. Though the woman before her was a far cry from the girl she’d been just moments hence, she could see that she still loved Harry with all her heart.

“Harry was the first and only person to see me like this…and not care. He didn’t see some hideous alien freak. He just saw that I was beautiful. A bit strange,” she looked at Narcissa with a bit of smile. "Understandably,” she then averted her eyes, staring at nothing. “But he wasn’t afraid. Even when I sat in the room, beside him, blade in hand contemplating taking his life, he never showed a hint of fear. He just, he just accepted that he was gonna die and made me promise that once I did him, I take his money as payment for taking out Voldemort.” She chuckled. “You know what he said when I was leaning over him, blade in hand?” She shook her head and sniffed past the lump in her throat. “I die staring at something beautiful.” She wrapped her six arms about herself. “I knew then and there that I loved him. It was so fast, so complete that I,” she bit back a sob. “I knew he’d never leave me. He’d never get tired of me. That this,” she motioned up and down herself. “Would never bother him.” She looked at Narcissa. “Believe it or not, he actually _prefers_ me looking like this? He hates that I have to hide what I am all the time. Says it isn’t fair.”

Narcissa stared at her long and hard. “I’m not going to pretend that it isn’t a little off-putting.” She slowly lifted her arms, holding her hands out to the alien woman. “But I suppose if Harry can get used to this, then so can I.”

Spiral got to her knees in front of Narcissa and stared intently into her eyes. “Like I said, besides how I look, nothing changes. I’m still going to see our baby delivered into a safer world.” She rested one of her many hands on the pregnant woman’s belly. “She’ll want for nothing. She’ll fear nothing. She’ll be able to grow up in a world without threats to haunt her dreams. That’s a promise.”

“I believe you, Rita,” Narcissa said, softly. “I love you. No matter what you look like.” She pulled the woman in and kissed her fiercely.

After several seconds, the pair parted. “Would you like a hot bath?” Spiral asked her.

Narcissa smiled. “That sounds heavenly.”

The silver-haired woman rose to her feet and easily lifted Narcissa into her six powerful arms. "Oh!" she said, with a giggle. She found that she immediately loved the support the strong limbs provided her. "I can walk." 

Spiral shook her head. "Not where we're going." In a flash, the pair were gone from the room and appeared in a fairly dim natural cave. The air was warm and quite inviting. 

“Where are we?” Narcissa asked, looking about.

“Mongolia. I learned about this place a couple of years ago. I’ve been here a few times. No one knows about it. She snapped her finger. Both her and Narcissa’s clothing disappeared. She effortlessly carried the woman into the water, resting her along the edge on a natural stone bench. “I’ve made a few alterations.” She motioned to the glowing stones along the walls. “It’s my own private paradise. Haven’t really needed it since I got together with Harry.”

Narcissa relaxed, letting the hot water ease the tension from her increasingly sore frame. “Well, thank you for sharing all of this with me.” She looked Spiral up and down. “Did it hurt?” She asked the girl.

“Yeah,” she said, kneeling before the elder woman. She lifted one of Narcissa’s feet and began massaging it. “I can’t really describe it. Being torn apart and remade is…” She fell silent for a time. “I don’t like to think about it.”

“I think feeling that pain makes you so adept at inflicting it upon others.” She could see that her words struck hard. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Those you hunt and kill are evil. They thrive on causing misery, pain, and fear. You do as well but you care who you do it to. They, largely, don’t. That’s the difference between you and them. I believe, as I’m sure Harry does, that they deserve what they get.” She reached out and caressed Spiral’s cheek. “You may not be a hero but you certainly aren’t a villain.” She smiled. “At least not to us.”

She looked up into Narcissa’s eyes. “I’ll never hurt you. Everyone who’s important to Harry is important to me.” She smiled at the woman. “You’re different, though. You’re important to me because you’re important to me. Not because of your relationship with Harry. You’re important because I actually, genuinely love you.”

Narcissa returned the smile. “I know you do. You prove it every day.” She sighed. “I know waiting on me hand and foot is tiresome.”

“Please. You’re carrying my husband’s baby. That’s something I can never repay you for. You’re giving us something I’d never be able to.” She shook her head. “And I enjoy doting on you, believe it or not. It makes me feel, I don’t know, _normal_. Being what I am, I find that comforting.”

Narcissa lay her head back and relaxed. “And I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know,” she said, softly.

“I want to hit Voldemort where it hurts the most,” she said, sternly. She looked at the woman square. “I want the Lestranges.”

Narcissa was immediately conflicted. She knew this day would come. It was only a matter of time before Rita would set her sights on her sister. Bellatrix was one of Voldemort’s most trusted and valued subordinates. She was his right hand, his hammer, and anvil. She was devoted to him to a degree that defied logic. She would do anything to please him. And that fanaticism is what placed her directly in the crosshairs of the woman that rested before her now.

“I know she’s your sister,” Spiral said. “I know blood is thicker than water. There’s a part of you that understands what she is, what she represents, _who_ she’s committed to. You know what she’s willing to do in his name, for his approval.” She shook her head. “She deserves to die for it.”

Narcissa nodded, biting her lip. “I know, I do. But…”

“She’s your sister. She’s family.” Spiral offered.

“Can, can you save her? Can you take her away from Voldemort?” Narcissa asked, quietly. She fought the sob that worked its way up. “Can you free her from him?”

Spiral nodded. “I can dig into her head and tear Voldemort out, sure. But it wouldn’t be your sister anymore. It would be something _I_ created. Your sister, for good or for ill, _chose_ to follow him. He didn’t do anything to her. Bellatrix, as she is right now, _is_ your sister.” She cocked her head. “Anything else is just going to be wearing her skin.”

Narcissa stared at her and slowly nodded. Rita was right. Bellatrix was ever misguided when it came to the mixing of wizard blood. She couldn’t argue that she, herself, shared some of this fealty to old bloodlines but she wasn’t so inept as to not understand the catastrophic effect trying to keep the wizarding world ‘pure’ had had.

Bellatrix, even faced with imprisonment for life, never doubted Voldemort. She never, for one moment, believed him truly gone. And, as such, she’d been rewarded with freedom from Azkaban just a few months prior.

Yes, it was safe to say that Bellatrix was lost to her. Every pain Rita would undoubtedly inflict upon her, her elder sister deserved. “She would be by his side at the Riddle House. Harry has seen it. It overlooks the graveyard where Voldemort made his return.” She lowered her eyes. “In Little Hangleton, Yorkshire.”

Spiral leaned in and kissed the woman passionately. “I know how hard this is for you.”

Narcissa sniffed and nodded. “She made her choices. Now she has to pay for them. Just never tell me.”

“I won’t,” Spiral said. She spent the next hour helping Narcissa relax. After they returned to Grimmauld Place, Spiral, once again adopting the guise of Rita, bid Narcissa a farewell and made her way to Hogwarts. She had someone to speak with.

 

Luna smiled brightly as she exited her Transfigurations class to see Rita standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall, waiting for her. “Hello, Rita,” Luna said stepping up to the girl. The students passed by, watching as the elder student took hold of the young Ravenclaw and plundered her mouth.

Since becoming a part of Rita’s social circle in school, Luna had been left alone. When she told Rita that ‘Nargles had taken her shoes’, the disguised Slytherin did something about it. She quickly found the boy responsible. After beating him within an inch of his life, she made it clear to everyone that Luna was her meat and not to be touched. The boy that was left bruised and bleeding on the floor of the Ravenclaw dorm provided a fantastic visual aid.

Luna, ever the loner, found it to be wonderful. It allowed her to study and complete her coursework in peace. Like Rita, she’d taken to sitting with Harry during meals. She had no friends in Ravenclaw, which she didn’t mind. She’d grown quite close to Rita, Harry, and Narcissa. The things the three of them did to her was beyond amazing.

Her eyes were still closed as Rita drew back. “How has your day been, love?” Rita asked.

“It has been quite fine, Rita. Thank you for asking.” Luna responded. “And yours?”

"Not bad. Not bad at all. I need to talk to you in private. You got a few minutes?”

Luna gave her a nod. “I always have time for you.” She eased closer and wrapped her arms about the woman.

Rita put an arm around Luna’s waist. The pair vanished in a flash. The students around them when they teleported away murmured among themselves. Gossip, even in a wizarding school, was ever in fashion.

The pair appeared on a rock outcropping overlooking an absolutely _gorgeous_ lush green forest. All around them huge natural rock pillars rose from the thin mists below. “This is absolutely fantastic,” Luna said, looking about. She turned back to Rita. “Where are we?”

“Zhangjiajie National Forest in China.” Rita gazed out over the vista. “I’ve been here a couple of times. Thought you’d get a kick out of it.”

“It’s amazing,” Luna said, happily. She moved over and kissed Rita intently. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

“It was my pleasure.” She took Luna’s hand and led her over to sit her on a large rock. “I’ve got something to show you. Then I need to ask you a favor.”

Luna nodded. “You can ask me anything, you know that.”

As she had with Snape, Hermione, and Narcissa, Rita revealed to Luna what, _who_ she really was. Luna, as had everyone else, looked her over with a critical eye.

“This…is what you really look like?” Luna asked her.

“Rita is just the name I use at Hogwarts. A secret identity, if you will,” she said. “But Harry knows me as Spiral.”

Luna just raked her eyes up and down the statuesque mutant. She couldn’t help thinking about what all those arms, all of that muscle could do for her, _to_ her. She slowly rose to her feet, shrugged her robes off and lay them on the ground. She then kicked her shoes off, reached beneath the hem of her skirt and pulled down her leggings. Spiral raised an eyebrow. Luna set the hose on the rock and lay upon her robes. She continued to stare into Spirals silver-blue eyes and began fingering her pussy. She said nothing. She simply stared at the woman with a look of daring avarice.

Spiral couldn’t help but smile. “Aren’t you the demure little slut.” She was between Luna’s legs in a heartbeat, her tongue slithering its way into the girl’s hot channel. Through her magic, Spiral could alter her form to a point. No matter how powerful she was, she would never be able to bear children. But she _could_ change her physical attributes. As her current disguise demonstrated. Pansy Parkinson had been on the receiving end of such an alteration. Now, she was employing such a transition again. Her tongue grew longer and longer…and _longer_.

Luna moaned deeply as she felt as Spiral penetrated her. She could feel it sliding around within her. Her eyes shot open and her body tensed as she felt the woman’s tongue manipulate her cervix. “Oh, _God_ ,” she said, breathlessly. A sensation she’d never before experienced suddenly cascaded through her as she Spiral pushed her long, serpentine tongue _through_ that tender, sensitive opening. Luna was no expert on the human female reproductive system but she was fairly certain what she was feeling shouldn’t even be possible.

But when Rita – or more appropriately _Spiral_ – was involved, what was and wasn’t possible was fluid. As she shook and shuddered, she looked down. She slowly, with trembling hands, lifted her shirt, exposing her midriff. With wide eyes, she watched as her stomach moved and bulged as Spiral worked her over. “H-how…peculiar,” Luna said, running her fingers over the bizarre motion.

Spiral used a pair of her arms and lifted Luna’s legs. Another set of hands gripped the girl’s ass cheeks and pulled them apart. She then lubricated a pair of fingers in the blonde’s dripping pussy and pushed them deep into Luna’s ass. The girl bucked and heaved. Her body rocked as Spiral drove the fingers in hard. She licked the inside of the girl with fervor.

After Luna had a mind-blanking orgasm, Spiral again adopted her younger persona. Luna took time to recover before getting dressed. She veritably glowed. "You said you wanted to ask me a favor." 

“Do you know Neville Longbottom?” Rita asked her.

Luna nodded. “He’s a Gryffindor. He’s in the same year as Harry,” she said, softly. “What about him?”

“Do you find him cute?”

“Very much so. He’s changed quite a bit. Why do you ask?” Luna asked, lifting her knees and resting her arms and chin on them.

“I’m not sure if you know what happened to his parents or not.”

“Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband Rudolphus, her brother-in-law Rabastan, and Barty Crouch Jr. tortured them with the Crucio Curse until they were driven insane. They’re still at Saint Mungos.” Luna offered. “Poor Neville. He was raised by his grandmother. I feel sad for him.”

“How would you like to take part in helping him out? Getting him a little payback and closure?”

Luna smiled and nodded. “I’d like that a lot. You’re planning to kill those that hurt his parents, then?”

The girl’s voice carried not even the slightest hint that she had a problem with killing people. Her tone actually sounded quite chipper and supportive. Rita liked Luna _precisely_ for this reason. “In the end, yeah. But I was thinking of letting Neville get his licks in, first.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” Luna said.

Rita nodded. “But before he can get into that mind space, he needs to shed some of that innocence. He’d never even think about it until he gets a little dirty.” She pointed to Luna. “That’s where you come in.”

Luna cocked her head curiously. “What would you like me to do?”

“Seduce him. Fuck his brains out. Give him some confidence. Then we can see about getting him on board.” Rita knew she was asking a lot. Luna had shown a side of herself that, frankly, was all out of proportion for her demure ‘girl-next-door’ appearance. But Luna, as it turned out, was quite the little freak.

For her part, Luna simply nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

Rita pulled the girl to her feet and kissed her fiercely. “Thank you,” she said smiling.

Luna nodded. “Anything for you and Harry.” She returned.


	26. Chapter 26

Neville Longbottom shifted his books in his arms as he made his way up to Gryffindor tower. He was just about the painting of The Fat Lady when he heard her voice. “Hello, Neville.”

He turned to see Luna Lovegood approach him, a peaceful smile on her face. “Good afternoon, Luna,” he said in surprise. He’d never really had much contact with her and was a bit shocked.

She moved up and took a few of the books from the stack in his arms. “You look like you could use a hand.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He leaned in and whispered the password to the painting. Luna followed him in, setting the books on the table beside the large shelf. “Thanks again.”

“Do have a bit of spare time?” She asked him.

He turned to regard her. “I suppose I have a bit of time before supper. Did you need help with something?”

She gave him a nod. “I do, actually.” She held her hand out. “Would you come with me?”

He stared at her a moment before taking the proffered hand. He followed along behind the girl as she led him through the castle to section that he was fairly certain he’d never seen before. All the years he had been coming to Hogwarts, he’d never been much of an explorer. He mostly kept his to his studies and did as was expected of him. On occasion, he’d bend the rules but he was far from what would be called a ‘problem child’ or ‘troublemaker’.

Luna stepped up to an unused room and pushed the door open. The room was dark, save for a few candles burning around what looked like several blankets lying on the floor with a goodly collection of pillows. There were no paintings on the walls. A few desks and pieces of discarded furniture were stacked against the wall. A fire burned low in the hearth. Neville swallowed as he took the features of the room in. “What…what did you need my help with?”

Luna strolled past him and closed the door, locking it. She then turned and stood before him for a moment. Then, with her face, a mask of calm contentment slowly opened her robes…

Neville’s eyes nearly popped from his head as he saw her pale, nude form. Her body was slender and had all the right curves in all the right places. In her uniform, much like the rest of the students, she was shapeless and bland. But that all flew once she shed the heavy garments. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized she wasn’t wearing any shoes. He’d heard tell that others felt the girl a bit peculiar, so he hadn’t thought about it. But to know that he’d been trekking through the castle with the girl and the whole time she was wearing nothing beneath the heavy robes…

“I would like you to have sex with me,” Luna said softly. She stepped closer to him. “I think you’re an incredibly attractive boy.” She ran her hands over his chest, easing his own robes open to caress the broad lean muscle beneath.

“I uh, um,” He swallowed again. “I never, I didn’t think…”

“For the next while you don’t have to,” Luna said, pulling him down to kiss him passionately. “Just let me take care of everything.” She dropped to her knees and began undoing the belt, button, and zipper of his pants.

So dumbfounded was he that he didn’t move. Simply put, things like this just didn’t happen to boys like him. Neville was always the dork, the boy that got bullied. Though, to be fair, he’d stopped being the butt of everyone’s jokes over the course of the summer. He’d been working hard for his Gran, getting her house and property put back to rights. The heavy manual labor had burned away the baby fat that he used to carry and left nothing but hard-earned muscle in its place.

He’d never given much thought to the difference. Apparently, Luna _had_. He just looked down at her with abject amazement as the girl deftly pulled him free of his jeans and boxers.

It was Luna’s turn to be taken aback. It was safe to say that Neville Longbottom…was _huge_. His cock was so thick that she couldn’t completely wrap her hand around it. Granted, she has relatively small hands but even if such weren’t the case, it wouldn’t change the facts. Stunned, she gripped it in both hands and realized that it was easily three handspans in length. “Good lord,” she said quietly. She leaned in and was able to barely get her mouth around the tip of his rock hard erection.

He groaned as she began working her tongue around the head of his member. He’d never felt a sensation such as this before. He could feel his legs getting weak.

Luna noticed this and withdrew. “Perhaps you would like to lie down?”

“Not, not that I’m complaining but…why are you doing this?” He asked her. “I’ve never been, I mean, I’ve never had girls notice me before. Why you? Why now?”

Luna didn’t have the heart to tell him that she was being asked to do this. She hadn’t thought about the boy until Rita had brought him to her attention. He’d just been one of the many faceless students in the halls. He’d never had a bad word to say to her and when she smiled at him, he always smiled back. But their interactions were minimal at best. So she decided to give him a sort of half-truth. “Someone brought you to my attention and I found my interest piqued.” She again took his hand and led him to the blankets on the floor. She helped him disrobe completely. She knew he was solid but she didn’t expect him to be _chiseled_. Once she got him without clothes, she eased him down flat on his back. She lay between his legs and once again began working her mouth and hands over his shaft.

Neville knew that he should have been questioning the whole scenario. It was as odd as could be. Granted, the past few years things haven’t exactly been what one would call normal at Hogwarts but this was a different beast altogether. He couldn’t help but wonder how the girl was so gifted at what she was doing, given her rather young age. All of that, however, quickly went by the wayside as the sensation of orgasm began building. It wasn’t long before she brought him close. “I’m going to-,”

“I know,” she said, patting his toned stomach. “Go ahead.” She latched her mouth tightly around the head of his cock and continued apace. Neville grunted as he released. He watched the girl’s throat work as she calmly swallowed everything he had to offer. He’d never cum before in his life. Luna stayed where she was, gulping down mouthful after mouthful. After he’d calmed, she drew back and licked her lips, making sure to catch every drop. “You let out quite a bit,” she said smiling.

“How did you learn-?” He began asking.

“I know a lot of things, Neville Longbottom.” She once again took hold of him. “I study quite a bit. I’m a Ravenclaw, you know. Knowledge and learning are my life.” She held him steady as she stared into his eyes. “Are you okay with this? We can stop if you’d like.”

“I just, well…I’m not going to lie, this is a little strange. You’ve, you’ve never shown interest in me before.”

“As I said, someone brought you to my attention.” She worked her hand up and down. “I must say I’m quite glad they did.”

“Who, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Rita. Harry’s wife. She mentioned you and I thought she might be onto something.” She cocked her head. “So do you want me to stop?”

He bit his lip, staring back at her. “No. I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “I must say, I’m rather enjoying myself.” She looked down at his huge dick. “Though, I must admit, I’ve never had anything quite this large in me before.” She then turned looking as if she was remembering something. “Oh, I take that back. I have once.” She looked at him. “It was a rather nice feeling, to be honest.” She rose and moved, straddling his lap. She held him while she centered her aching pussy over him. Slowly she lowered herself down, taking him inch by inch into her wet channel. “Oh, you feel quite nice.” She felt him stretch her as she accommodated his length and girth.

Neville, for his part, couldn’t get over how _tight_ she was. It almost hurt. He let out a sharp exhale as he felt Luna drop onto his lap. “God, Luna,” he said gripping her slim thighs.

“No,” she said, taking his hands and bringing them up to her small, pert breasts. “Here.” She then rested her hands on his chest and began rocking back and forth. It was obvious that he didn’t really know what to do as he just kept his hands on her tits. She had her eyes closed as she enjoyed the feel of him inside her. “Squeeze them, Neville. Hard.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Luna,” he said, somewhat worried.

“You won’t.” She put her hands over his and squeezed. “Please, Neville. It feels so good.” He did as she asked, applying a bit of pressure. She shook her head. “Harder.” He added a touch more pressure. “Harder.” He bit his lip and squeezed them nearly as hard as he could. He could tell that she would be bruised from the contact. Luna let out a moan that nearly made him blow again. She threw her head back and began bouncing up and down on him with abandon, moaning.

           

Rita kept quiet and watched the wanton sexual display. She was fairly certain that Neville would be able to ring Luna’s bell quite nicely. She’d had a sneaking suspicion that he was rather well endowed. She couldn’t deny the fact that she wouldn’t have minded a ride herself. But she was a happily married woman and wouldn’t do that to Harry. So she settled for leaning back on the desk and rubbing her own hot swollen pussy to climax as the pair fucked in front of her.

Luna began shuddering and shaking as she rode the slightly elder boy. “I’m cumming, Neville. I’m cumming.”

He, of course, wasn’t far behind. He gave her breasts one more bruising squeeze, causing her pussy to tighten further. He then released a burning hot stream deep into her twitching snatch.

The scene forced Rita to bite the back of her hand as she, too, came.

Luna sat there, letting the sensation slowly fade. After nearly a minute, she felt him still rock hard within her. “You’re still erect,” she said to him.

He looked at her through lidded eyes.

 _Damn,_ Rita thought. _Figured the boy would be limp as boiled spaghetti after unloading like that._

Luna withdrew from him, hissing in both pain and pleasure. She then got to her hands and knees and turned her rear toward him. “Put it in my bottom, Neville.”

He swallowed and nodded. He got to his knees and, with the utmost of care, began pushing into her ass. It was much tighter than her pussy. He was trying to be as ginger as possible, not wishing to hurt the girl.

“Just force it in,” she said to him. Her voice was as calm and serene as was possible. By her tone, one wouldn’t guess that she was having eleven inches of cock being pushed into her. “I’m not made of lace. I won’t break.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Neville said, worried.

“You don’t understand, Neville.” Luna turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I _want_ you to hurt me.” She gave him a demure, seductive smile. “I’m a peculiar girl. I am, after all _Loony_ aren’t I?”

He thought quickly and withdrew himself from within her. He ran his hand along her soaking wet pussy, gathering as much fluid as he could, then ran his drenched fingers over his massive penis. He repeated the gesture, this time rubbing the blonde’s bottom, easing a pair of fingers into her ass to loosen the tension a bit. “I refuse to hurt you _that_ much, Luna,” he said, matter of fact.

 _Smooth_ , Rita thought as she watched the pair. She began her own ministrations anew. _God, I wish Harry was here_.

Unaware of his and Luna’s audience, Neville once again positioned himself at the entrance of Luna’s anus. “So just push in as far as I can?”

“I would like that very much.” She responded politely.

He let out a breath. “Here goes,” he said a moment before he thrust into her as hard as he could manage. His long, thick cock drove into her with incredible force. The pressure around his member was unbelievable.

Luna howled in pleasure and pain. Her arms gave out as her body collapsed to the floor. She was breathing heavily. Her eyes were glassy as she stared over to where she knew Rita was watching.

For Neville, instinct had taken over. He was fully into the game, now. He began pumping in and out of the girl, causing her body to shake with every impact. He ignored the slight amount of blood that dripped from her ass as he worked.

Luna breathed heavily in time with him as he moved. Her small tits swung with each thrust. The _smack, smack, smack_ of their flesh, Neville’s animalistic grunting, mixed with Luna’s lustful moans created an orchestra of carnal delights. The petite blonde’s face pressed into the pillows as she was fucked mercilessly. Her mind was blanking from the sheer joy of it all. _I’m definitely going to have to do this again_ , she thought.

Rita for her part continued to work her own fingers in her hot, dripping pussy as she twisted a nipple in her fingers. _God, I need to get fucked_. _When they’re done, her tongue is_ definitely _going to be on my pussy_.

Neville, unaware of anything but the enjoyable sensation of yet another orgasm building, continued to slam into the girl as hard as he could. He wasn’t sure how long he knelt there, drilling into her but at last, he felt his testicles tighten. He pushed in deep and released. He pulled her ass to his pelvis and held her there.

Luna could feel the hot stream flood her. She looked back along her stomach to see it slightly distended. _He definitely saved up_ , she amusingly pondered.

Neville sat there for almost a minute straight before his cock became flaccid and slipped from within her. “That was very nice,” he said, his voice slurred a touch.

“Yes, it was,” Luna said in return. She rose to her knees and turned, kissing him with unfettered passion. “I would most definitely like to do this again, if you’re okay with it.”

Neville nodded dumbly. “I would absolutely be okay with it.” He wrapped his arms around her. “It was…just _wow_.”

“My boyfriend needs to get back to his studies, I think.” Luna offered, softly. “But hopefully he’ll think of me.”

“I won’t be thinking of anything else,” Neville said as he gathered his clothes.

Luna helped him put them on, then kissed him again. “I’ll be by to visit you later, okay?”

He nodded again. “Okay.” He gave her hands a squeeze then left the room.

She watched him go and sighed. “Thank you for prompting me to do that,” she said out loud.

Rita stepped forward, wrapping her arms about the girl from behind. “You definitely enjoyed yourself. That’s for _damn_ sure.”

“Yes, I did.” Luna turned to look over her shoulder at the woman. “Did you enjoy watching it?”

Rita gave her a grin and kissed the blonde. “Yes. Yes, I did. On your knees.”

Luna did was she was told without hesitation. She needed no further instruction. She knew exactly what Rita wanted. She leaned forward, placed her hands on the woman’s shapely bottom and began licking her pussy with abandon.

 _I love being me_ , Rita thought happily.


	27. Chapter 27

Ron furrowed his brow at the spectacle. It wasn’t the music that had prompted his consternation if he was to be honest with himself. In truth, he rather liked the sound of his little sister's new sound system – a gift from his friend Harry – and the muggle rock that filtered through the Gryffindor common room. He knew the song was called _Black Velvet_ but he’d be damned if he could tell you who performed it. It was a good cut, all things considered.

No, what stole Ron’s attention was the fact that his dear little sister Ginny was dancing to it with Hermione. That, in and of itself wasn't completely outside the norm. Ginny often danced around the house when their mother listened to her music while performing her daily duties. What _was_ strange, however, was _how_ Ginny was dancing. Normally she was silly and completely without rhythm. Such times, it seemed, had passed. She stood in front of Hermione grinding her bottom into Hermione’s groin. The taller bushy-haired girl had her hands on Ginny’s hips and was likewise moving with her. Both girls’ eyes were closed and seemed to be ignoring the rest of the room as if they didn’t exist.

What disturbed Ron the most was that he couldn’t take his eyes away. He knew he shouldn’t be watching this. It was wrong on _so_ many levels. _Why was she doing this_? He asked himself. _When did Ginny and Hermione even learn to_ do _this?_

He’d noticed Ginny’s rather odd behavior for a while, now. Ever since the beginning of the year, she’d been acting rather… _peculiar_. When she wasn’t wearing her robes, she gallivanted about in tight pants and equally tight sweaters and tops. Gone was the frumpiness that had followed her through her first three years at Hogwarts. She’d even taken to wearing high-heeled boots nearly constantly. _Where did she even get those_ , he wondered.

He swallowed as his eyes trailed up his little sister’s form. An image suddenly flashed across his mind. A waking dream of sorts. There and gone. He pictured Ginny, naked on all fours. Her small breasts swinging, her face a mask of ecstasy. Her red hair matted with sweat…

With him behind her, pushing into her with abandon. Each thrust causing his little sister to moan and cry his name out. Hermione was on her knees behind him, her small hands caressing his muscular chest as he brutally fucked his little sister.

Ron shook his head at the unwanted imagery. He knew his stomach should be turning at such a thought. _She’s my sister!_ He screamed at himself. _You don’t snog and shag your little sister! That’s just beastly!_ It was made worse that he felt himself growing stone hard in his robes.

“Hey, Ron,” Harry said as he came down the stairs from the dorm.

“I wasn’t watching!” The boy snapped, turning to his friend.

Harry raised his eyebrow. He looked over to see Ginny and Hermione dancing, completely lost to the music. “Huh.” He shrugged and turned back to Ron. “What weren’t you watching?”

“Nothing.” Ron rose to his feet. “What’s up?”

“It’s lunchtime. I was going to get something to eat. Wondered if you wanted to come with?”

“Yeah. Food…good. Yeah.” Ron stammered, falling in beside his mate. “Sounds good.”

“You alright, Ron? Your face is red.” Harry stared intently at his friend. “You’re not taking sick, are you?”

 _I might be,_ the boy thought. Out loud, he simply said “Nah. Just um, thinking about my potions homework. Not looking forward to it,” Ron lied.

Harry shrugged and nodded. “I can understand that.” The pair climbed out through the hole in the wall behind the painting of The Fat Lady to see Rita approaching. Harry immediately smiled and moved up, wrapping his arms around her. “Hello, love,” he said. He threaded his fingers into her blonde hair and pulled her in, kissing her fiercely.

As she had every time before, she melted into his embrace. For several seconds, the pair held each other. Ron had to adjust his stance thanks to his massive erection. As he looked at Rita, he couldn’t help but feel envious of his friend. The blonde Slytherin was absolutely _stunning_. He raked his eyes up and down her form. Her body was absolutely to die for. Her shapely hips, her large round breasts, and her pert bottom were enough to make any boy’s mouth water. _And she’s all his_ , Ron thought, jealously. He turned his attention back to see Hermione emerge with Ginny. The pair were chatting happily. He could see them holding hands. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of his little sister. _Mum wouldn’t have to know_ , he suddenly thought.

Startled by the realization, he shook his head to banish it. Maybe he just needed something to eat.

He moved past the kissing lovers and toward the stairs. Harry pulled away from Rita and turned to follow Ron. He didn’t catch the sinister smile on her face.

She once again sat facing Harry, her right leg under the table while her left rested in the aisle. She had a hand absently resting on Harry’s back as she took a bite of her garlic and parmesan mash. She then stabbed a piece of ham with her fork and devoured it. She had to admit, the house elves really outdid themselves with the meals. The food at Hogwarts was top-notch.

Hermione went on about their homework. Ron sat, looking thoroughly put out. Harry didn’t pay him much mind, beyond the typical concern. When Ron assured him it was nothing, he let it go. The end of the year being only a couple of months away, everyone was feeling the strain.

He spared a look at Draco. Once again the boy sat alone, save for Pansy Parkinson. Harry had to admit that he was glad Draco had at least found _some_ measure of happiness in recent days. The rest of his house avoided him as if he were a leper. While he didn’t regret what he’d allowed Rita to do to the boy, he did feel sorry for Draco. When they’d first met, the Malfoy heir had been an insufferable little twat. He’d strutted around – as his wife would be wont to say – as if his shit didn’t stink. He had a sense of entitlement that grated on just about everyone Harry knew.

Largely, he was able to ignore the boy but every so often Draco would say or do something that just got Harry’s goat. And when the dust settled, Harry found himself losing house points because of Professor Snape playing favorites…and Professor McGonagall most assuredly _not_. But to see the boy looking so thoroughly miserable was just… _heartbreaking_. It didn’t bother him enough, however, to do or say anything to help. As Rita was fond of reminding him; Draco had started it with his rubbing Harry’s parents’ deaths in his face. The little blonde lorded the fact that he had a mother and father over Harry’s head. Harry, himself, could do nothing. But Rita could, and had, done _everything_. Including taking Draco’s family from him, while giving Harry some semblance of a family in return. So much so that in a couple of months time, Harry would be a father.

He looked back to Rita, who turned to stare him in the eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he said, softly. “I love you.” He added.

She gave him a genuine smile. “I love you, too,” she said, leaning in to kiss him. “It is time.”

Harry furled his brow. “Time for what?”

“Tonight, I’m going to seek out Bellatrix. She’s Voldemort’s right hand. I think it's time we cut that hand off, don't you?" She asked him. 

Harry swallowed. He’d heard of the woman. Everything said that she was beyond insane. Everyone had heard what she, her husband, and brother and law did to poor Neville’s parents. It was enough to make him shudder. To know that his wife – powerful though she was – was planning on going after the witch caused him obvious concern. “Please be careful,” he said, fear in his voice. “I don’t want anything happening to you.”

Rita smiled at him and again kissed him passionately. “I’ll keep my guard up, I promise.”

“Just make sure you come back to me.”

She rested her forehead to his. “I promise.”

           

Rita hovered in the air with her arms crossed, staring down at the dilapidated manor house in Little Hangleton. She could see dim lights burning in the windows. She casually lowered herself to the ground and called upon yet more of her sorcery, rendering herself invisible. She waved a hand, removing the wards from the home. She entered the house soundlessly, closing the door behind her.

She moved through the manor, peering into room after room. Given how many of Voldemort’s followers she’d removed, she wasn’t surprised to find few souls. She had a very specific target, thus had little time to spare on faceless and nameless minions. They were cogs in the machine and nothing more.

And each Death Eater faced the same fate. A quick slash of one of her heavily enchanted blades removed their heads. She left them where they lay and moved on, paying them no more mind.

After several minutes of searching, she came upon both Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange standing, face each other in a heated exchange.

“She’s your wife, Rudy,” Rabastan said, his voice tight. “You shouldn’t stand for such behavior.”

“What would you have me do, Rab? Storm in and call down his ire?” Rudolphus shook his head, defeat in his tone. “She is his. There can be no denying it. We were never in love. It was an obligation for both of us and nothing more.”

“You are a coward, Rudolphus. A man should fight for his wife.”

Rita eased up behind the betrothed of Bellatrix and shoved her sword quickly through his back and into his heart. The magical steel sliced the organ in two, killing him instantly. She carefully angled it to the right as she did so. The blade shot out of Rudolphus’ chest and slid between Rabastan’s ribs, just left of his sternum and likewise carved his heart in twain.

The pair of men collapsed against each other and fell limply to the ground.

She was away in a heartbeat, seeking her true prey. She climbed the stairs toward the master suite. The context of the men’s conversation suddenly became clear. She paused outside the bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at what she heard. She eased the door open, peering inside.

Bellatrix, completely naked, sat astride the pale, gaunt form of her Dark Lord. Her long black hair was matted with sweat. Her hands rested on his narrow chest. She moaned loudly as she rode him.

 _Almost feel bad for interrupting this_ , Rita thought. She stole into the room, silent as a light spring breeze. She could see that while Bellatrix was lost to ecstasy, Voldemort stared up at the woman, his face devoid of emotion. Rita had to admit, Bellatrix would have cleaned up quite well. As it was, with her tits bouncing and her head leaned back, she looked rather attractive.

Rita smirked and turned to look down at the terror of the wizarding world. She could feel the… _unnaturalness_ of him. His was a soul _greatly_ divided. All she felt wafting from him was rage and pain. He honestly felt nothing for the woman that he was fucking. To him, if what she feeling was anything to go by, she was simply a hole. Nothing more, nothing less. _And she’s completely and utterly devoted to you, you son of a bitch_ , she thought. _I like you_.

She knew that she could destroy his physical form right here, right now. But she also knew that it would be fruitless. He would still be able to terrorize and manipulate from the ether. She personally felt it better to leave him hale and whole, so to speak, so she could more easily keep track of his movements.

So, instead of burning him to a cinder, she simply drew her most powerful magicks to the forefront and reached out, touching his forehead. “ _Sleep_ ,” she mouthed silently.

Voldemort’s body immediately went limp. Bellatrix felt him grow soft within her. She opened her eyes and stared down at him. “My Lord?” She asked, fear causing her voice to pitch up. She leaned down and caressed his cheek. “My Lord, open your eyes.”

Rita watched the reaction with a smile on her face. The woman’s expression was priceless.

“Lord Voldemort, wake up!” She shook him but his slumber was complete.

“Seems he finds you rather boring,” Rita said, becoming visible. For the first time since becoming Harry’s bride, she was astonished by a magic practitioner’s proficiency.

Bellatrix quickly proved _why_ she was Voldemort’s most trusted lieutenant. “ _Accio_ ,” she snapped. Her wand was in her hand in a heartbeat. Rita barely had time to call her own magic to mind before the black haired witch unleashed one of the unforgivables upon her. “ _Crucio_!” Bellatrix shouted.

Rita felt pain erupt along every nerve ending in her body. She was no stranger to pain but what she felt at this moment…nothing compared to it. She’d heard that the lady Lestrange was regarded as an expert in the use of such a curse. Now she was learning _why_.

The pain was such that her disguise slipped. That slip, however, was her saving grace.

Bellatrix was stunned when the form of the young blonde girl shifted, becoming something altogether alien to her. The tall, muscular six-armed creature with silver hair was far beyond anything she’d ever seen before. In her shock, she let the spell lapse.

Spiral wasted no time. She capitalized on Bellatrix' momentary distraction and thrust her hand out toward the witch. The blast of arcane magic smashed into Bellatrix, hurling her back and throwing her _through_ the wall into the room beyond. The woman landed in a crumpled heap. Spiral rose to her feet, swooned and dropped to her knees. “Christ,” she said, holding her head. “That _sucked_.” She again stood but taking care to do so slowly. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs and stepped through the hole in the wall to look down at the woman. “You had some serious juice to you, bitch.” She reached down and lifted her effortlessly from the floor. “Time to go.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and tossed it onto the bed, next to Voldemort’s sleeping form. She then disappeared into the darkness.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story, more or less, has become something of a project for me, above and beyond what has come before. It's become a bit of a one-up to see how twisted and dark I can get. 
> 
> So, with that said, this chapter is SICK. I'm talking 'Hostel' and 'Saw' levels of sick. 
> 
> Seriously, if you are grossed out by the prospect of excessive torture-porn, don't read this. 
> 
> If you don't want to read that kind of thing but you ARE interested in the story, there's the TL:DR for you at the bottom of the page. 
> 
> But for the rest of you that are just as sick and depraved as I am, happy reading.

She had to blink her eyes several times to clear her vision. She cast her eyes about the room. It was pitch dark and smelled of dampness. She tried to speak but found herself well and truly gagged. She could feel the soft ball in her mouth, keeping her jaw open. The bizarre rubber flavor caused her to swallow. Bellatrix felt rage welling up within her. She tried to free herself to no avail. Her wrists were secured firmly to the arms of what felt like a metal chair. Her ankles were likewise immobilized. She also noticed, with a touch of fright, that she was completely nude.

Frantically, she began whipping her head around, trying desperately to see something – _anything –_ of her surroundings.

“Welcome back.” A rich voice called from behind her. A bright, harsh light suddenly clicked on overhead, bathing the immediate area in a yellow glow. She heard the thump of boots on the concrete floor circling to her left. She turned to see the statuesque blonde girl strolling around her. She once again tried to move but did little more than tremble. She looked down to see her arms wrapped from wrist to elbow with fine, yet strong ropes. She was able to lean forward to see her legs much the same. She lifted her eyes to glare at the girl. She received a smile in return. “Ooh,” she said, running a finger down Bellatrix’ cheek. “So fierce.” She moved away and made her way to a long table that rested near the edge of the light.

Bellatrix watched her intently. She tried to speak but found it impossible through the gag she was wearing. As the girl worked and seemed to ignore her, the witch felt the straps securing the ball in her mouth loosen. The gag was then pulled out and fell to the floor. “Before you start screeching and ranting, I want it made plain,” The blonde turned and looked at her. “I find your voice to be annoying as hell. That cockneyed Blackpool drone of yours is like chalkboards fucking to me, so keep the shrieking and wailing to a minimum or I’ll rip your fucking larynx out.”

Bellatrix stared at her a moment. She knew, from her brief exposure to the girl, that she was powerful beyond belief. She’d unleashed her most devastating Cruciatus on her and the girl, for all intents and purposes, shrugged it off. None had ever done so before. So she took the threat seriously. “Who are you?” She asked, doing her best to remain calm.

“Call me Rita,” she said. “You may be familiar with some of my work.” She turned to look at Bellatrix with a sinister grin. “It’s the talk of the Ministry.”

The Lady LeStrange frowned as she thought about the girl’s words. Suddenly, it dawned her. “You’re the one that’s been killing My Lord’s followers.”

Rita nodded. “I am indeed.”

“He’s going to find you, you know. He’s going to come for me. I’m his most valued disciple. He _loves_ me. He’ll-,” she was cut off when Rita laughed out loud.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” She asked, turning to face the woman. She had a rather sinister looking blade in her hand. “Let me cue you in, skank. You’ve been down here for two days. When I took your ass, I left your boyfriend a letter telling him _exactly_ where to find you.” She shook her head. “You’re in a basement in an abandoned building in Edinburgh. There are no wards, no magical barriers. There’s nothing to keep him from just sweeping in and rescuing you.” She held out her hands. “Where is he? He hasn’t even _tried_ to come and get you.”

Bellatrix just continued to glare at her. “You’re lying,” she said, angrily.

Rita smiled. “Am I?” She drew closer to the woman, waving the garish looking knife about. “In the whole time you’ve been here, has your dark mark reacted in any way? A burning sensation at all? Slightly warm, perhaps? Even a little tingle?”

Bellatrix turned to her left arm. She realized with a heavy heart, that Rita was right. She felt nothing but the coldness of the armrest. “That doesn’t mean-,”

“It means everything, Bellatrix.” Rita stopped behind her and gently glided her fingers through the elder witch’s thick black locks. She then tightened her grip and yanked her head back. She stared down into her captive’s eyes. “The fact is he knows I have you. He knows where to find you.” She shook her head. “And he doesn’t care. That’s something you’ll have to square with someday.” She quickly dragged the knife through the woman’s hair, slicing a handful of it off. “But just in case you don’t believe me…” She moved around and stood in front of Bellatrix. “I’m sending this _directly_ to Riddle House in Little Hangleton.” She held it up and nodded. The mass of hair disappeared. “If your boyfriend is even half the mage he proclaims to be, he should be able to find you.” She then grinned widely. “But until he does, you’re all mine, bitch.”

“I’ve been tortured before," Bellatrix said, smugly.

“Oh, I’m sure you have. As part of Voldemort’s inner-,”

“Don’t you dare say his name!” Bellatrix screamed. “You don’t have the right!”

Rita frowned and stepped over to the woman, backhanding her so hard, teeth were knocked loose. “A little lesson in our relationship. I can say and do what I want.” She shook her head. “You can’t. You need to learn that.”

“Do your worst. I can take it. It’ll be spit on in the ocean compared to what my Lord will do to you when he finds you.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rita said. “You’re going to learn today that the evil your precious Voldemort is capable of is absolutely _nothing_ compared to what I can do to you.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You will be.” She stepped forward and gripped Bellatrix’ forehead and pushed her back so she was staring up at the bright light. The black-haired witch was immediately blinded. She felt fingers prying her left eye open. “Since you love your mystical tattoo so much, let’s see what other body modifications we can make.” The sheer brilliance of the bare light bulb began to sear her retina. Her eye began to water. She felt the cold point of the blade Rita was carrying touch the inner corner of her eye. “You’d be absolutely amazed at how much punishment a human body can take before dying.” She smiled at the woman, who was now nearly hyperventilating. “Now, try not to move. Otherwise I could leave a scar.” She paused a moment. “And feel free to scream.”

Bellatrix then experienced a pain that was altogether new to her. The Dementors were horrible, true. But the pain that the ghostly creatures inflicted was deeper, colder. This was white-hot, physical, and immediate. She felt the blade slice into her skull. Blood poured from the wound as Spiral slowly, and with meticulous care, carved Bellatrix’ eye out. She was careful to use her power and make sure that the woman didn’t bleed out on her. While what she had said was initially true, there were quite a few arteries in the skull and care had to be taken to not knick said vessels. So she moved methodically, while prolonging the pain she inflicted

Now, Bellatrix, being human and, thus, unable to control herself in the throes of such agony, did, in fact, scream. Quite loudly and quite often. But Spiral had to give credit where credit was due. Where everyone else she’d tortured just let out ear-piercing gibberatic wailing, the dark witch promised bloody retribution to not only Spiral but everyone she held dear. Threats of a very graphic and detailed nature were levied against all that the girl knew and loved.

After several minutes of cutting, Spiral ripped the eyeball free and held it up, so Bellatrix could see it with her right eye. “See? You _do_ have pretty eyes.”

Breathing heavily, Bellatrix snarled at her. “I’m going to cut your bloody fucking heart out, you whore!”

Spiral, having shed the disguise of Rita Wayward, Hogwarts Student, stared at the woman with a smug smile. “I’m sure you would if you could.” She shook her head. “But you can’t.” She slowly got to her knees. Holding the grotesque trophy in one of her many hands, she reached out and flipped a pair of catches on the side of the chair. “But I do feel somewhat bad about taking this from you.” She pushed the legs that Bellatrix was secure to apart. The Death Eater’s sex was suddenly splayed open.

"What are you doing?” Bellatrix asked, sharply. She tried futilely to press her thighs back together but her strength was as nothing compared to the woman before her.

“I’m just giving this back to you,” Spiral said, smiling. “I mean, it is _yours_ isn’t it?”

For the first time, in Belltrix’ life…the woman _begged_. “Please don’t,” she said, her voice pitching higher in fright.

“Relax,” Spiral said. “I can guarantee this isn’t the first disgusting thing you’ve shoved into this snatch.” With that, she spread Bellatrix’ labia apart and pushed the woman’s own eyeball into her quivering channel.

“God, no!” Bellatrix tried with every fiber of her being to free herself. Her muscles twitched and spasmed as she did her best to force the macabre invader out. She was then screaming as Spiral pushed her entire fist up into her tunnel, seeing to it that the severed eyeball was securely in place.

“There we go,” Spiral said, withdrawing her hand with a squelching _pop_. She looked down and saw the blood on her hand. “Oh, that’s a bit unseemly.” She stood and cleaned her hand in Bellatrix’ thick black hair.  

“I swear, by every God on this planet that I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Bellatrix threatened.

“Gotta admit, the threats are getting a little stale.” Spiral returned. She reached onto the floor and picked up the ball-gag. She then unceremoniously pushed the red globe into her prisoner’s pussy, disregarding the dirt and grime that accumulated on it. She received a grunting squeak from the witch. She relocated the legs of the chair. “There we go.” She patted the woman’s thigh. “No need to thank me.” She rose to her feet and moved back to the table. “Be curious to know how long we can keep that in there before it goes toxic.” She shuddered. “Definitely be eager to find out.”

She could feel the foreign object squishing around inside her. It was a sickening feeling. She loved sex as much as anyone but to know that her own dislodged eyeball was now buried in her sex was beyond anything she’d ever imagined, let alone experienced. And she got the sneaking suspicion that this would probably be the _least_ of what the tall alien woman would do to her this night. “Wh-Who are you?” Bellatrix asked again, shifting in the chair. “And why are you doing this?”

Spiral sighed. “I suppose there’s really no harm in telling you, is there? If you must know,” she turned and moved back over to the dark witch. She held up her hand, showing the golden wedding band around her finger. “My real name is Spiral… _Potter_.”

“P-Potter?” Bellatrix asked, not understanding.

“The wife of Harry Potter. I think you might know him.” Spiral grinned. “At least your boss does. He’s been trying to kill Harry since he was a toddler. That doesn’t sit well with me.”

“You can’t…Harry isn’t…” She was _thoroughly_ confused.

“I did. And he _is_.” She turned back around. “We married at the beginning of the school year. Actually, your boss knows _exactly_ who I am. Before you were broken out, he tried hiring me to kill Harry.” She shook her head. “But I decided that if I killed Harry, I would only get to kill one person. But by marrying and protecting him, I get to torture and kill _so_ many more.” She looked back over her shoulder. “And I’ve had so much fun doing it, you don’t even know.”

“My Lord _will_ stop you. Even if you kill me, he’ll find you. He’ll never stop hunting for you. And when he finds you, he’ll kill you.”

“He can try,” Spiral said. “For all the good it’ll do him.”

“He’ll succeed. He has all the time in the world. He’s immortal.”

Spiral again looked at her. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s not.” She turned and crossed all six of her arms. “Would you like me to tell you how I know that?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Because there’s no such thing. I’ve tangled with alien warlords, vampires, ghosts, and even _Gods_. There has never been, isn’t, and nor will there ever _be_ anyone that is truly _immortal_. Everything and I mean _everything_ can be killed. It’s just a matter of finding the right weapon. And I happen to have _exactly_ the weapon I need to take out your boyfriend.”

“His soul is-,”

“Fractured. I know. I’m not exactly sure why your world calls them Horcruxes but I know the user of a soul phylactery when I see one. And your boyfriend has several, I’m sure. I’m betting that artifact he had you hide away in your vault is one of them.”

“How did you know about that?” Bellatrix asked, shock evident on her face.

“Well, it wouldn’t do to kidnap you and not try to glean what information I could out of you.” Spiral offered.

“I didn’t say a word to you!” She spat.

Spiral reached out and tapped Bellatrix' forehead. “It’s all in here, woman. And while yes, _consciously_ your occlumency is quite potent, when you’re out like a light?” She shook her head. “Nothing’s off limits to someone like me.”

Bellatrix, for one of the few times in her life, didn’t know what to say. Finally, she did speak. “I have to use the bathroom.”

Spiral just grinned at her. “And you think…what? I’m gonna release you to use the head? Fat chance, bitch. You gotta go, then go.” She relaxed a touch. “I’ll wait.”

“I can’t, I’m not going in front of you.” Bellatrix snapped.

“Don’t really see you having much of a choice.” She pushed away from the table. “What’s the matter? Need some help?”

“What do you mean, do I need help?” Bellatrix asked. She very, _very_ quickly wished she hadn’t. Spiral’s fist arced in and drove deep into the witch’s stomach. The woman’s strength was absolutely incredible. If the Death Eater had ever wondered what being punched by a giant felt like, the curiosity was well and truly abated.

But the shot had the desired effect. Bellatrix hadn’t noticed before but her bum was hanging free beneath her. As she defecated, it flowed into a repository under the chair she was strapped to. It was a small blessing that she wouldn’t have to sit in her own feces. She did however, urinate as well. That, unfortunately, spilled out over the chair and ran onto the floor.

She hacked and coughed as the pain in her abdomen began to subside. Taking a deep breath, she knew immediately that she had several broken ribs. She could tell none of them had punctured her lung. She was grateful for that as well.

“You were right,” Spiral said, stepping back. “You _did_ have to go.”

“You’re a bloody monster,” Bellatrix said, her voice slurred. “Enjoy this while you can. Because when my Lord-,” her words were cut off as Spiral’s hand clasped her throat.

“You know…I’m getting _really_ tired of you spouting that bullshit.” She then grinned. “I’ve got an idea.” She let the woman go and moved over to the table.

“What are you going to do to me, now?” Bellatrix asked her. “Spank me?”

“Well,” Spiral began as she looked about. “Ah, here we go.” She turned to the woman with a short, sharp blade. “It _does_ involve your ass.” She moved over and once again threaded the fingers of one of her strong hands into the head of thick, black hair. She again leaned the witch back. “Are you gonna open your mouth, or am I gonna have to pry it open? Be a lot less painful if you just do as you’re told.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Cut your tongue out so I don’t have to hear you yammering on and on about Moldy-snatch. We can do this either way.” She wasn’t surprised when Bellatrix clamped her mouth shut. “Your jaw.” She took hold of the woman’s bottom jaw with her cybernetic hand. She began squeazing, watching the pain fill Bellatrix’ eyes. “I can squeeze hard enough to turn your jawbone into powder. You might wanna-,” she was cut off as Bellatrix reluctantly opened her mouth. “Smart. Somewhat disappointing but smart.” With yet, another hand, Spiral took hold of her tongue and pulled it as far out of her mouth as she could. “Now, try not to swallow when I do this. There’s a lot of blood vessels in the tongue and you could drown on your own blood.”

Bellatrix was weeping as she felt the knife slice into the muscle deep inside her mouth. The pain was, once again, something she wasn’t used to. She fought to keep her mouth open. Trying to close it would just result in more pain. She had to hold on until her Lord came for her. If _he comes for you,_ an antagonistic inner voice called out. _He’ll come for me_ , she shot back. _He loves me_.

 _You hope_ , was her answer.

Spiral was once again meticulous as she sliced away at the base of Bellatrix’ tongue. Soon she had the long sinewy muscle in her hand. “There we go,” she said, holding it up. She looked into Bellatrix single remaining eye to see her crying. “Gotta admit, you handled that like a champ. If Voldemort actually gave a shit, he’d be proud of you.”

The woman could only moan and grouse. Blood poured from her mouth. She spat it at Spiral in defiance. It never got close. As the spatter arced through the air, the silver-haired beauty waved a hand, collecting it into a sphere. She then directed it into the bucket beneath the woman. “I’ll use that later.” She gave Bellatrix a wink. “In the meantime…” She turned and began collecting a few things from the table. “We need to make sure things remain where we want them.”

Bellatrix stared in fear. She began to whimper piteously in anticipation. She was coming to understand that the woman was right. Her cruelty was far and away beyond what either she or her Lord were capable of. While the Crucio Curse was pain incarnate, it didn’t cause this sort of abject humiliation. It didn’t degrade and debase to this level. Yes, there were other spells in her repertoire and they could be used to great effectiveness, none of them were this… _nasty._

In truth, it wasn’t the initial acts that Spiral was performing that gave Bellatrix the most fear. It was what she would be left with, what she would be left _as_ that grieved her the most. She was disheartened knowing that, when Spiral was done with her…Lord Voldemort would likely never touch her again. That fact made her weep.

Spiral, for her part, was ignorant of her inner rumination. “Alright, Bellatrix.” She turned to look at the woman. “Let’s see about putting things where they belong, shall we?”

She saw what looked to be a long length of wire in the six-armed sorceress’ hand. She frowned and mumbled, unable to form words.

“You’ll see,” Spiral said, grinning. “Let’s get you into position.” She waved her hands, moving her hips as she did so. The chair lifted from the ground and tipped forward. Bellatrix whined loudly as she was suspended in the air. Spiral moved around behind her and sighed. “Look at that. You’re all dirty back there.” She concentrated a touch. The excess feces was quickly cleared from Bellatrix’ bottom. “There we go. Nice an clean. You don’t have to thank me.” She reached up and pulled pale butt cheeks apart. “Now, since you can’t help but spout so much verbal diarrhea…” She took the still-bleeding tongue and pressed it against Bellatrix’ anus and pushed. The woman growled and shook but couldn’t otherwise move. Spiral worked the severed muscle in and nodded. She then began easing one finger after another inside, ignoring the sobs of pain she was causing. Soon, her whole hand was lodged in Bellatrix’ ass. “Just gotta make sure it’s nice and snug up in there. She shoved the grotesque piece of meat up until she hit mid-forearm. “That oughtta do it.” She then yanked her hand out. Blood and a few errant remnants of fecal matter came with it. “That’s just gross.” She shrugged. “Can’t be helped, I suppose.” She patted the woman’s aching bottom. “Now, be still. This is a delicate procedure.”

Spiral used two of her hands and pressed Bellatrix’ cheeks together. She then began to slowly work from the small of the woman’s back, to her taint stitching her ass closed with the strong silvery wire. Bellatrix, of course, wailed and cried but she did stay still as Spiral worked.

Never had she been so thoroughly miserable as she was at this moment. A thought that she’d never expected rolled across her mind…

 _Please…just kill me._ But Bellatrix knew that her pain had just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bellatrix wakes up in a nondescript basement and suffers greatly at the hands of Rita, who does quickly reveal that she is A) Harry's wife, B) Evil as hell, and C) That Voldemort really doesn't have fuck one to give about rescuing Bellatrix. 
> 
> She claims to have left a letter telling Voldemort where she and Bellatrix will be, if he feels so inclined. She also claims it's been two days and he hasn't arrived to rescue her. This plants a seed of doubt in Bellatrix, which is the point. It is never made clear on whether Rita/Spiral ACTUALLY did this or not. 
> 
> So there you have it. That's the basic synopsis of the chapter. As I said if you like the story but don't want the gore, you're up to speed.


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